


Duality

by PengyChan



Category: Gabriel Knight
Genre: Gen, M/M, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-11
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 03:18:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 129,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3159266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PengyChan/pseuds/PengyChan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set at the end of The Best Within. When the trap meant to kill von Glower fails and only leaves him injured, Gabriel finds himself with a heap of unsolved problems and very confused thoughts regarding von Glower himself, the true nature of lycanthropy and his own feelings about both.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It Turns Out Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this a while back, but man doesn't it need some fixing. I don't know whether I should be proud because my English got better or horrified by how bad it used to be. Since I'm proofreading and fixing away, I figured it wouldn't hurt uploading the chapters here as I fixed them.

Grace cursed under her breath as she ran through the maze that was the theatre's basement, closely followed by Leber – who, she faintly noticed, clearly wasn't too used to run anymore, at least judging from the way he panted. He seemed to be even more out of shape than Mosely, and for a moment she wished she had him to help her out instead of that guy. She just hoped he wouldn't collapse before they could find the Black Wolf: he was the one with the gun after all.

_But will Gabriel be free from the curse if Leber shoots von Glower now?_

That was a million dollars question, she thought with a grimace as she stopped just for a moment to slam a door open and run in the next room. She had been pretty sure that he would be if everything went according to the plan, with von Glower turning into a wolf in front of everyone and Leber immediately shooting him: it was how the trap was supposed to work, and Gabriel had helped setting it up – he would have had a hand in his death, and he would be free.

But the plan hadn't gone as it should have, and von Glower had managed to escape the trap, at least the way it was supposed to work – how could she guess he could just jump down the balcony like that? – so she couldn't be completely sure that killing him now could serve to free Gabriel from the curse. What if it didn't? Then they would take away any chance he could have to turn back to normal by killing von Glower in his place… given that it wasn't the black wolf to find them first, she thought. How many chances could there be that the beast was waiting for them to come, ready to jump from behind any corner? And what if it had managed to make it outside already?

_And what if you run into Gabriel instead? What if Leber ends up shooting him?_

Grace viciously shook her head to chase away the thought as she turned another corner, still followed closely by Leber, and she felt a pang of anger at the thought. Why couldn't he just stick to the plan? Why did he just  _have_  to put himself in danger like that? After that mess was over she would give him the scolding of his life, she decided, getting ready to turn another corner… then she froze as a snarling sound reached her ears.

Leber almost bumped into her, but she barely noticed – all she could think was that she could hear the snarls of  _two_  wolves, coming from the furnace room. Gabriel and von Glower had to be in the both there, she realized. So maybe she could still fix everything and make sure Gabriel would break the curse on himself by actively participating to von Glower's killing!

"This way!" she almost shouted, reaching to grab Leber's jacket and literally dragging that mountain of a man along, tiny as she was. "In the furnace room!"

Her words seemed to make Leber's cop instinct kick in, for he  _finally_  began running for real, even getting ahead of her as they both went into the furnace room… and then halted right past the door. Grace's already racing heart began beating even more wildly at the sight in front of her – a huge black wolf crouching defensively by the opposite wall, fangs bared, a threatening growl coming from its throat as it kept its flaming eyes fixed on them. No, Grace thought, not on them – on the doorframe behind them: it wanted to escape, not to attack, but it didn't dare to try getting past them because of the gun Leber was shakily pointing against it.

Another growl reached her ears, and Grace turned to see another huge wolf in front of the wall at their right, a dark grey one – Gabriel. It was staring at the black one, growling, but still not attacking, probably sensing that the other wolf would be stronger and more experienced in fighting. Grace turned to Leber. "Shoot it – shoot the black one!" she cried out.

"Stay back!" Leber shouted, but he still didn't shoot, pointing his gun against Gabriel and von Glower alternatively. He was clearly afraid that if he shot one of them the other one would attack, and he was trying to determinate which wolf he should shoot first if he wanted to make it in time to shoot the other one before it attacked.

"Damn!" Grace muttered under her breath. She turned to look at Gabriel, and she saw that his gaze was no longer fixed on the black wolf – it was fixed on her, and she was relieved to see how intelligent, how human those eyes were. He could still recognize her, she thought, frowning a little as the grey wolf began shaking its head, still staring at her. He was trying to tell her something, but what…?

She slowly turned to her left, where he was tilting his head towards, to see the furnace in which the fire was roaring, and she suddenly knew what he wanted her to do – he wanted her to open it so that he could try pushing von Glower inside the furnace and to his death. She slowly nodded at Gabriel and stepped forward, reaching for the handle. The black wolf's snarls increased in volume and she paused, her heart skipping a beat, but it didn't attack and she dared to take yet another step, her hand almost touching the handle…

After that, everything happened so quickly that Grace barely had any time to realize what was going on. The black wolf seemed to somehow guess her intentions, for he finally made a desperate leap for the door. She heard Leber shouting, but before he could shoot Gabriel jumped as well. He and von Glower collided in mid air and fell on the ground heavily, howling and growling, fangs bared, locked in a vicious struggle.

Before she could think of anything, let alone do something, she felt someone grabbing her shoulder and pulling her back – Leber – and just a second later two gunshots exploded from the gun, deafening as they resounded in the small room. There was a loud yelp, and for a horrible instant Grace thought that he had just hit Gabriel, even killed him, but a second later she could see with utter relief the black wolf slumping on the ground, bleeding from some gunshot wound on its right side.

The grey wolf immediately tore itself off the black one and darted to the door, passing right between Leber's legs. Leber turned with its gun lifted and shot again, but missed. He tried to aim once more, but Grace immediately grabbed his forearm. "No, don't shoot! Let him go!" she exclaimed frantically, grabbing his forearm and making him miss again just a moment before the wolf turned a corner and disappeared from sight. One more howl resounded in the basement, then nothing more.

"What…?" Leber looked almost comically lost, staring at her as if she were insane. "What in the world…?"

Grace ignored him and walked back in the furnace room to make sure the black wolf was truly dead, and she took a step back when she saw no wolf – on the ground where the beast has fallen there was von Glower, unconscious and naked, bleeding profusely from two bulled wounds on his right side, just below the ribcage. Grace drew in a deep breath and took a step closer just as Leber went back into the furnace room as well.

"Mein Gott," he muttered, his skin an unhealthy ashen colour as he glanced down with widened eyes at the naked, bleeding man on the ground where the black wolf had been only moments before. "What  _happened_?"

"Long story short, you shot a werewolf," Grace said, crouching next to von Glower and reaching to press a finger on his neck, and she cursed under her breath as she felt a heartbeat. It looked like the book she had found in Gabriel's library was telling the truth – a werewolf could only be killed if its heart or brain were damaged. The injury on von Glower's side looked extremely serious was bleeding profusely, but it hadn't damaged either and wouldn't kill him… and it would probably heal much more quickly than the usual human rate.

"A werewolf?" Leber was repeating weakly behind her, but Grace didn't even hear him. For a single moment she was tempted to just finish von Glower, but she quickly pushed away the thought. Tempting as it was, it could mean taking from Gabriel any possibility to break the curse upon himself: in order to be free, he  _had_  to have a hand in von Glower's death. Had he been killed by the gunshot while fighting against Gabriel, it would have probably been enough… but if she killed him now, Gabriel could be condemned, and she couldn't take risks. God, trying to do exactly as that book about werewolves said was a lot like having to obey a contract with something like a million provisions.

_And what about Ludwig? He set up the trap in the theatre – if von Glower doesn't die here and now, he will never be free._

Grace bit her lower lip at the thought, but she eventually forced herself to ignore it. As much as it pained her denying Ludwig his eternal rest after all the help he had given her, it would mean condemning Gabriel… and that was something she couldn't allow it to happen. Besides, it could very well be that Ludwig's chances to be freed had vanished when von Glower had managed to escape from his seat and into the basement, technically getting away from the actual trap – whatever had happened next was beyond Ludwig's plans, and thus beyond his control or responsibility.

"I'm so sorry, Ludwig," she murmured to no one in particular before she got up slowly. "We must carry him away from here," she heard herself muttering, a plan forming in her head. She would bring him in Rittersberg, she decided, and keep him locked in the same dungeon where his father had been imprisoned centuries before. Then she would wait for Gabriel to show up – she could only hope that his instinct would draw him home, but after all he seemed to be still capable to think rationally even in his wolf form – and then… then he would deal with von Glower himself and put a end to that mess.

"You mean, in a hospital?" Leber seemed still lost, the gun dangling limply by his side – he looked everything like a kid waiting to wake up and find out it was all a bad dream.

"Oh, of course. Do you really want to explain to anyone in the hospital how come you shot a naked man? Or are you going to explain he was a wolf until five minutes ago and then hope they won't take you in as well?" she snapped, and Leber shut his mouth, clearly realizing that the only result he could get by explaining what happened would probably be losing his job and being sent in a mental health facility.

Good, Grace thought with some relief, he seemed willing to cooperate. She went on. "Look, trust me on this one – it's better for everyone if you just let me handle this. Just help me getting him outside and in the car. I'll explain you everything in due time if you want, but now-"

"Nein!" Leber almost shouted – he definitely looked like he needed to sit down, or have a drink. Maybe both. "I want to know… nothing more of this insanity. I help you take him away, and then I want you to… disappear from my life, ja? Nothing happened here," he added, and he looked like he was doing his best to believe it, refusing to even look at von Glower's still form.

Well, it was more than Grace could have hoped for. It was perfect. "Of course," she said, her mind working quickly to think of a way to get von Glower outside without anyone noticing. "There is a ventilation tunnel that leads to the street behind the theater," she finally said. "We can get through that to avoid being spotted. The car isn't very far, and it's dark outside. We could pretend he's not feeling well while dragging him."

"But he's naked," Leber said, unwillingly looking down at von Glower and shattering the reassuring illusion that he was just dreaming. "Someone could see you, and it's not so dark that they wouldn't notice…"

Grace thought for a few moments. "I'll fetch Gabriel's coat – it should cover him well enough."

"What?" Leber seemed alarmed. "You're not planning to leave me alone with him, right?"

Despite everything, she smirked a little. "Are you afraid?"

He gritted his teeth. "Fine," he almost growled, lifting his gun and aiming at von Glower's unconscious form, ready to shoot should he move. "Get that coat and come back here. Quick!"

Grace was out of the basement before he even finished speaking.

* * *

It was very early in the morning, barely dawn when someone knocked the door of Schloss Ritter. Gerde – who hadn't gotten a minute of sleep that night – immediately lifted her gaze form the book she had been reading. She put down the book and hastily got up from her desk, her heart beating somewhere in her throat – could it be Gabriel? Grace had called to that night to tell her that something had gone wrong with the trap, but she was in a rush and didn't go into details: she only asked her to stay up that night should Gabriel return.

And she very much hoped it was him to knock the door, she thought, reaching to open it. And indeed it was Gabriel, she realized with relief and some perplexity. Relief upon seeing that he was fine and that even though he looked kind of tired, had some mud stains on his face and torso and his hair was a mess he seemed much more healthy than he had in the past couple of months… and perplexity at realizing that he was naked, using few branches taken from some bush to keep his groin covered.

He gave her a sheepish smile. "Uh… hi, Gerde. Mind to let me in and give me some clothes before I tell you a funny story?"

* * *

A quick shower, some clothes, and quite a lot of coffee later, Gabriel's story turned out to not be that funny after all.

"So the trap didn't work," Gerde said with a worried frown as Gabriel took another sip of coffee.

"Looks like we underestimated the way a werewolf can jump. He landed like a cat or something," he said, scowling a little. "What I wonder if what the heck happened after I ran away and went back here. I don't think Friedrich- I mean, I don't think von Glower is dead. I would have turned back into human right away if he died, right? I had to wait for dawn instead, though being a wolf really comes in a hand when you have to get from Munich to Rittersberg on foot. I just hope Grace is alright."

"She is," Gerde immediately reassured him. "She called tonight to tell me to stay up in case you should return here. She didn't tell me much else other than that the trap hadn't worked, but she was perfectly fine.

Gabriel seemed immensely relieved. "Ah, great," he smiled before he stretched his arms a little. "Man, I'm  _sore_."

"You seem to be doing better than you did in these past two months, though," Gerde pointed out, watching him intently.

"Well, yeah. I feel a lot better this morning," Gabriel admitted. "Perfectly fine, really. I stopped feeling sick after I actually turned into a wolf. Seems like all the drawbacks go away when the Change is complete. Pretty convenient."

"I see," Gerde bit her lower lip before she spoke again. ""What was it like? Being a wolf, I mean."

"Well, the change itself hurt like a bitch. And changing back isn't much better, with the bones and everything changing shape and direction…" he paused shuddered. "But once you're a wolf, it's not so bad," he admitted. He had felt so powerful, so aware of everything going on around him, so  _alive_. "It's not like I want to stay like that," he added quickly as he saw Gerde's worried expression. "Once Grace gets here to explain what the heck happened, we'll think of some other plan to get me back to normal. But it wasn't as bad as I thought, I… was still myself. Mostly. I mean, I knew who I was and what I had to do. I could recognize Grace. I could understand what she spoke. I was afraid I'd turn into a complete beast, but looks like I didn't."

"Maybe it's the Ritter blood," Gerde suggested. "Perhaps it's what allowed you to keep control over yourself from the first time."

"Yeah, could be. Some more convenient stuff," he grinned a little and was about to add something else, but he was cut off by someone banging at the door.

"Gerde?" Grace's voice came from outside. "Gerde, it's me! Has Gabriel come back? Is he here?"

Gabriel grinned a little before he got up and went to open the door himself. "Guten Tag, Gracie. Coffee?" he asked nonchalantly, and he was about to add that she looked like she needed it – she was pale, with dark shades under her eyes and she looked more tired and anxious than he could remember seeing her – but before he could add anything else Grace's hand hit his face in a slap that made him stagger backwards with a yelp.

"Hey!"

" _This_  is for messing up and running around like that at the Opera!" Grace yelled, and Gabriel gave her an apologetic grin, still rubbing his cheek – fine, maybe he deserved it.

"Uh… yeah, sorry about that. I wasn't really thinking clearly."

"You weren't thinking  _at all_ , were you?" she snapped, but she couldn't keep the relief from showing in her voice. She sighed – well, after all maybe it had been better that he had sneaked on the stage: hadn't he been able to chase von Glower after he managed to hide in the basement, the black wolf could have managed to escape… and hell knew how they could get another chance to get him. "Anyway… some stuff happened after you left."

Gabriel nodded. "Von Glower is still alive," he said – it was a statement, not a question. "So the gunshots didn't kill him, eh?"

"No, but he was seriously injured and unconscious. I managed to drag him outside and in the car. He's here," she glanced up at his face to see him suddenly get a little paler "here in Rittersberg. I locked him in the dungeon, and Mr. Smith is guarding the door. Gabriel, I know it's not exactly something anyone would enjoy having to do, but…" she reached for something in her pocket – the Ritter dagger – and handed it to him. "It's the only thing to do."

A grim expression crossed Gabriel's features. "Yeah, I know," he said quietly, reaching to take the dagger. "Will you come with me, Gracie?"

"Of course."

Gabriel nodded and briefly waved at Gerde before he walked outside, followed by Grace. There were a few moments of silence as they began walking down the path that led to the small town below. "I hope I didn't screw up the Opera too badly," Gabriel finally spoke, clearly wanting to speak of something that wasn't the fact he was about to have to murder a man. "It would suck for your friend, it was his big chance."

Yes, Grace thought with a pang of guilt, she would have felt horrible if they ruined Georg's great occasion, but thankfully it hadn't happened. "It's alright," she said. "When I brought von Glower in the car to get here, I could ear the applause from outside. The actors kept going, and everyone thought they just had incredible special effects," she laughed a little at the thought. "And all newspapers report that it was a success. One of Wagner's best works, they say – masterfully interpreted."

Gabriel's expression brightened. "Oh, great! And, uh… what about the actor I taped to the chair?"

Grace chuckled. "They think it was some crazed fan. He couldn't see you clearly, and nobody suspects you. The guy is a tad shaken, but I bet he's loving the publicity he's getting now."

"Awesome. Last thing I need is more trouble."

"Yes. Speaking of that…" Grace turned serious again as they walked into Rittersberg's square. Gabriel followed her gaze, and while he couldn't see he was really surprised to see a small crowd of people outside the dungeon he certainly wasn't happy about it.

_Are y'all here to see the show, ladies and gents? To see the hunter slaughter the big bad wolf? Will you tell the story to your grandchildren?_

"Gabriel, are you alright?" Grace asked worriedly as she saw his expression.

"I don't like it, Gracie," Gabriel admitted under his breath as a few people turned to look at them- "The killing part."

She nodded. "Of course you don't. I'm sorry, but…"

"It's what I gotta do," Gabriel finished quietly. "I know."

"Herr Knight," Werner Huber walked up to him. "I assume you're here to finish that creature."

He seemed eager to see von Glower's blood spilled, and for a moment Gabriel felt almost disgusted before he remembered that the child whose killing had started his investigation was his niece. No wonder he longed for revenge: no one should die like that, let alone a child. "Guess so," Gabriel said, and Huber frowned at his slight hesitation. "But I've got to remind you – he's not the one who killed your niece."

The man clenched his jaw. "But he's the source of the curse, ja?"

"Well, yes…"

"Then he has to die. Some…  _things_  should not exist," he said, and Gabriel realized that as far as he was concerned, von Glower was just as responsible as von Zell for Toni Huber's death. Understandable and maybe not completely untrue, but still…

"Yeah, sure," he finally just said before glancing at the crowd. "How about telling everyone to get back home or something? This is not a show."

"Herr Knight, people want to be sure-"

"This. Is. Not. A. Show," Gabriel repeated, and now he sounded angry enough to make Huber hesitate. "Tell them to go away. There is nothing to see."

Werner Huber stared at him for a few moments, clearly not pleased, then he finally walked to the others and spoke to them. A few wary glances were shot in Gabriel and Grace's direction, then the crowd finally began to walk away.

"You don't feel at ease with having to kill, do you, dear?"

Gabriel turned to see Mrs. Smith giving him an almost motherly glance. He shrugged. "Not really, no," he said, grateful for the fact she  _wasn't_  urging him to kill. It was a nice change.

"Oh, I understand. I wouldn't have the courage myself," Mrs. Smith went on, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't an easy choice you had to make-"

Something in her speech about choices made Grace's eyes suddenly widen. The letter! She had never told Mrs. Smith that she wouldn't show it to Gabriel until everything was over, and she still hadn't. If she mentioned von Glower's letter…!

_Please, stop talking now. Stop!_

"… But I'm sure you're making the right choice," she was going o.n "I knew you would since when I read the letter…"

"Letter?" Gabriel interrupted her, a confused frown on his face.

"Yes, of course," Mrs. Smith said "the letter from von Glower, remember? The one he- oh!" she trailed off as she realized that Gabriel had no idea what she was talking about. She shut her mouth, but them damage was done and she could only clear her throat a little uneasily as he turned to face Grace.

Grace had shut her eyes and wished she could just disappear as Mrs. Smith spoke. She should have told her to not mention that letter In front of Gabriel, but she had seemed so sure that he should read it before making his choice that she hadn't told her she hadn't shown it to him, and… well… but she was wrong, of course. She didn't know Gabriel as well as she did. Grace had made the right choice, she knew she had-

"Grace?"

She sighed and opened her eyes again to see Gabriel staring at her, a slight frown of confusion and suspect on his face. "Gabriel, look-" she began, but he cut her off.

"What letter, Grace?" he asked slowly, staring straight at her face. She bit her lower lip and finally glanced away, the slight sense of guilt she had felt since when she had decided to keep von Glower's letter hidden from him suddenly growing. But she would show him that letter eventually, she just… she simply…

"It was the right thing to do," she muttered, and Gabriel was taken aback by the guilty expression on her face. What was it she had kept hidden from him? Why would she keep something important from him? She was the last person he would have expected to do something like that, she truly was.

"Let me decide if it is," he finally said, a hint of anger finally showing in his voice as she held out his hand – Grace faintly noticed that Mrs. Smith had backed off once she had realized something was wrong. "Show me whatever letter you kept from me, Grace."

She opened her mouth to speak again, but no words came out. She eventually drew in a deep breath and took something from her pocket – an envelope. She silently handed it to him.

Gabriel glanced down at it, and he felt his heart skipping a beat when he read the sender's name – von Glower: he had written to him a letter barely a few days after he had been bitten by von Zell. He swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous without even knowing why, and took out several sheets of paper from the envelope. Grace didn't dare to say a word as he began to read.

_Gabriel:_

_I know you are very ill right now. The Change is always painful. I went through it myself when I was only twelve, and I did not even know what was happening to me. I'm sorry I am not there to help you, but I have a pretty clear sense that you would not welcome my presence. You are safe in Rittersberg. For now, that is enough. Let me speak, then, of the future._

_You hate me now. I know this. But I have some hope that by the pass of the second moon, when the sickness wanes and the blood has inflamed the greater part of you, you will see things differently. You will need me then and, I think, you will_ want _me then._

_It is for hope of this that I did not have you destroyed the night you were bitten by von Zell. I could have done so. You were passed out for hours at the lodge. It would have been a simple thing to wake the men, show them von Zell's corpse, and make up a story that would enrage them enough to kill you. I did not. Let that be proof of my true desire for friendship with you. I have desired companionship for more years than you have lived._

_I have even, very rarely, taken the risk and Changed others. But the Blood was always too much for the brain and my Chosen One ended up dead. Or mad. This is why I started the hunt club. It was my idea that if I could first indoctrinate men's minds to the religion of tooth and claw, that they then might be prepared for the Change. As you have seen, it did not work. Von Zell was the best of the lot. If he had turned out well, I would have taken the others, but there's no point in even trying with them now._

_But you are different. You are a Ritter. Your blood is_ already _supernatural. Yes, I know of your family. I have studied much over these long years. When we met, I felt somehow that you would not be destroyed by the Gift. You have an enormous streak of the beast in you and you are innately strong in the Occult. You will be powerful and beautiful in the Change, I am sure of it. I did not intend for it to happen so soon and in such a way, but perhaps fate has its own reason._

_But how confused you must be. You may feel I used you to dispose of von Zell. I did. He had to be taken care of, and you obligingly showed up. What was I to do? I am too old not to have learned at least this much about the light – you cannot shut it out. Better to let it in and let it simply dim to adjust to the relative brightness inside_.

_Think well on these things as your body adjusts. Think about meeting me in Munich in two months time. We can leave Germany if you wish and go anywhere you like. I will teach you how to hunt, how to live safe and well. You can feel the night wind on your face, taste the heartbeat of the kill beneath your jaws. It is glorious – much more so than the priestly life the Schattenjäger offers._

_Don't confuse yourself with ideas of good and evil. Nature shows us that there are no such distinctions. You and I both inherited something from our fathers. Is your legacy any less of a curse or blessing than mine?_

_Join me._  
 _Yours –  
_ _Friedrich._

Grace bit her lower lip as Gabriel finally finished reading and lifted his gaze to look at her, a mixture of astonishment, confusion and anger on his face. "Why the hell did you keep this from me?" he demanded to know, his grip on the letter tightening without him even realizing it.

"You were unwell, and-!"

"And you couldn't find one moment in two months to show me this? Give me a break, Grace!" Gabriel snapped. "Why didn't you show me the letter?"

God, could he  _really_  be that dense? "What do you think?" Grace snapped back. "I wanted to make sure you wouldn't do anything stupid like… like…" she trailed off, unable to even finish the sentence.

"Like joining him?" he finished. "I can't believe you, Grace! Did you really think I could have...?"

"Honestly? I couldn't tell," she retorted, and Gabriel abruptly shut his mouth. Did she really think there could have been a chance for him to choose to join von Glower?

_Can you really say there weren't any?_

He frowned at the thought. Fine, his attraction to the philosophy von Glower had developed and somehow to von Glower himself was above doubt: there was something in that man, in his magnetic personality and in the way he lived his life that appealed him. But that didn't mean he would have chosen to behave any differently had he read the letter before the night at the Opera. Would he…?

Gabriel shook his bead angrily. "No, you're wrong. It wouldn't have changed anything."

"Then why does it even bother you that you didn't read it?" she retorted. "If you would have done the same anyway-"

"It should have been my choice, Grace!"

"Didn't you say you would have chosen to carry on with the plan anyway?"

"I would have! But…!" he hesitated and for a moment he seemed unsure of what he could say next, then he groaned and just stuffed the letter in his pocket. "Oh, the hell with it. We'll discuss of that later, okay? Now I have to…" he paused and turned to the entrance to the dungeon. "Is he awake?"

"Barely, from what Mr. Smith said," Grace glanced at him carefully. "Are you going to… finish him now?"

"I guess… maybe. Maybe not. Not right away," he added quickly as he saw the expression on her face. "I need to understand some more stuff, and he can give me some answers. He'll stay harmless for another while anyway."

She nodded. "Do you want me to come with you?"

"No," Gabriel said, more harshly than he had mean to. "I'm going alone."

"But-"

"Alone. And don't wait for me here," he added. "I don't know how much it will take, and I probably won't feel like getting through a third degree once I get outside."

She bit her lower lip as she realized he was still upset over the fact she hadn't been planning to show him the letter until von Glower was dead. She tried to ignore a pang of guilt and tried again.

"Gabriel…"

"I won't do anything stupid, don't worry," Gabriel cut her off a little bitterly before he stepped into the dungeon and shut the door behind him. Grace stood her for a few more moments, not really knowing what to do or say, then she sighed and turned to walk back to Schloss Ritter. She had done the right thing, she told herself, still trying to ignore the sense of guilt and hoping that Gabriel wouldn't mess up.


	2. Change of Plans

Normally, von Glower would have heard or smelled anyone coming long before they reached the door of his cell: his senses were that keen. But this time, his mind dazed by the horrible pain in his side only made more bearable by some painkillers someone had put in his water when he had begun to wake up, he only realized someone was coming when he heard the key turning into the lock and the door of the cell opening. He turned to glance at his visitor without even trying to lift his head from the pillow, and he wasn't surprised in the slightest to see Gabriel approaching the cot he was resting onto.

"I suppose… you're here to finish me," von Glower managed to gasp. He didn't allow himself to hope there could be any other reason why Gabriel was there, not even for a moment. Not enough time had passed for Gabriel to accept the Gift: it was clear he was still fighting it, and he certainly hated him now. Killing the one who had caused this had to seem an extremely tempting option to him… especially since his death would allow him to get his life back to normal.

For a moment it occurred to von Glower he could try to explain himself, to say that he hadn't meant for that to happen – not so soon, not like it had – but he discarded the idea. He had already explained himself and his reasons well enough in the letter he had sent him. If Gabriel hadn't accepted his arguments, nothing he may add would make him change his mind. The thought the man he had hoped would be his companion for the rest of his immortal life hated him  _hurt_ , even more so now that he knew that wasn't going to change. Before that moment he had at least the hope Gabriel would eventually understand, push his hatred aside and accept him as a companion. But now that hope had vanished.

"It's a dirty job, but somebody has to do it," was Gabriel's reply, his voice unusually hollow as he took a step forward, and von Glower could see the faint glinting of the dagger he was holding as he went to tower over him. It looked like the predator had cornered its prey, von Glower thought faintly, and for a moment he almost found it amusing how the roles had changed… at least as far as he was concerned; as for Gabriel, von Glower had never thought of him as a prey. Never. He could not, the sense of kinship too strong to allow him.

He briefly turned his eyes away from Gabriel and glanced at the window. He could not see outside from where he was, but he could at least see the light pouring in and he faintly wondered if his father had found it comforting as well when he had been locked in there before the execution. Something in his stomach turned at the thought, and his gaze shifted back to Gabriel. The light was dim and his hair covered most of his face, but von Glower could see how tightly his lips were pressed together, how deep his scowl was… and how blank his eyes were as he avoided to meet his gaze.

The coolness of the blade pressing against his throat startled him, and he drew in a sharp breath, not even trying to do anything to defend himself – he had no strength, and he stood no chance against Gabriel now.

"I kill you and… this ends," Gabriel said slowly. "Is that right?"

"That's correct," von Glower said, sounding unnaturally calm for someone who has a dagger pointed to their throat. "If you kill me, you'll be back to normal. But you won't cause me much harm that way. Here," he weakly reached to grab Gabriel's wrist, guiding the tip of the Ritter dagger directly above his heart. "This is where you have to strike."

Gabriel stared at him for a few instants, their eyes finally locking, and even though his grip on the handle tightened he still didn't move. One strike, and he'd be free… but he still couldn't move. God, why couldn't he just finish him? He had been ready to do so when in his wolf form in the furnace room, he truly had been. But then it had been all so sudden, and all he knew was that he had to kill the black wolf to be free – stabbing a wounded man was quite a different thing than attacking a vicious beast.

He stayed motionless for a few more moments, his eyes still fixed in von Glower's, then he spoke again. He hadn't lied when he had told Grace there were still some things he needed von Glower to explain to him. "Why did you do this to me?" he finally heard himself asking. "Hell, you're not the one who went on a killing spree! I wouldn't have any other reason to… damn, you're  _forcing_  me to kill you!"

"It… wasn't my intention to put you in a such situation. My apologies."

"But you wanted to turn me into a werewolf," Gabriel scowled in anger again, the tip of the Ritter dagger pressing a little harder on von Glower's chest. "You said so in your letter. You were planning to do that since the beginning – von Zell just beat you on time."

"He did," von Glower swallowed and shut his eyes, his pale face clammy with sweat – whatever they had been merciful enough to give him to ease the pain was starting to wear off, and the pain was quickly getting just as unbearable as before. "But it would have been… different if I could prepare you first. If I could teach you to accept it, to think of it as not only a curse, but also a blessing," he murmured.

There was something regretful in his voice now, and it took all of Gabriel's willpower to not slacken his grip on the handle of the dagger.

"This seems a damn lot more like a curse than a blessing to me," Gabriel said quietly.

"It is, when you have to bear it alone. Can't you now see why… why I wanted someone to share all of this with me?" von Glower said, and opened his eyes again. "Do you think you could lead a life as a Schattenjäger without anyone by your side?"

Gabriel hesitated, and it took him a few instants to tighten his grip on the dagger again. "It's not the same thing."

"Why not? We're both different, any chance of living a normal life taken from us. Neither of us asked to carry such burdens: we were born with them. And we both try to make the best out of it. That's all I tried to do for my entire life."

"I never tried to drag people down with me," Gabriel retorted. He sounded almost defensive. "I always tried to protect-"

"Facing all this alone is something you can do for a few years, perhaps. Can you picture yourself-" von Glower trailed off and drew in a deep breath, trying to ignore the searing pain in his side. The tissues were regenerating already, but it was painful and it would take another while for the wound to heal. "Can you… picture yourself carrying this burden alone for the rest of your life? I carried mine for over two centuries. Alone, aside from a few years."

"Like the time you spent with Ludwig?" Gabriel asked, and for a moment he almost feared the answer.

A small, bitter smile curled von Glower's lips for a moment. "Yes."

"You cursed him. He killed himself because of what you did to him."

Von Glower felt a sharp pang of guilt in his chest. He had forbidden himself to think about Ludwig for so many years, and now that he thought again of how bitter his last years had been and how awful his end was hurt just as much as it had when he had first known he was dead. "I had no idea it would end that way. I had hoped he could accept the Blood and not be broken by it. I had hoped…" he paused and shook his head. "What does it matter? It didn't turn out the way I hoped it would. I destroyed him, whether I willed it or not."

Gabriel gritted his teeth. "Like you destroyed von Zell," he said, and he could feel von Glower wince beneath his grip.

"Yes. I thought I could avoid it, but not even trying to prepare my chosen one worked. He lost his mind."

"Yeah, that was hard to miss," Gabriel said dryly. "And you were still willing to take the risk again with me!"

"No!" Von Glower's eyes snapped open, some of his strength getting back to him, and Gabriel found himself holding his breath as their gazes locked again.

"I knew you'd be able to accept the Blood! You're a Ritter – that makes you different from anyone else! I knew you wouldn't be destroyed by it. I knew you'd live, and that maybe you'd-" he trailed off, his voice dying in his throat as more pain came from the wound, and he squeezed his eyes shut against the pain. Then again, he didn't need to finish that sentence: Gabriel knew what he had been about to add, he had already read those words on the letter he had sent him.

_Maybe you'd want me._

A sudden sense of uneasiness added itself to the tension, and Gabriel had to shake his head to clear his mind. "You were still going to change me without my consent."

"No, you're wrong. I wouldn't have. I would have let you choose once I had taught everything I could. I gave von Zell a choice too – I wouldn't have done anything against your will."

"Isn't it what you did with Ludwig? Change him against his will?"

Von Glower winced again. "That was an accident."

"Bismarck wanted him to sign the treaty, and he did because  _you_  convinced him to – that's why he gave you land and a title, isn't it? Because of the great job you did at convincing Ludwig."

"How…?"

"Gracie is great at doing research. Ludwig began having second thoughts about the treaty, didn't he? And Bismarck must have wanted him out of the way. And shortly after mentioning in his diary that he regretted signing that treaty – guess what? – Ludwig has a hunting accident. A wolf bites him. He never really recovers, his mental state degenerates, he grows more and more withdrawn and unstable, and in a few years he can be pushed out of the way. Such an incredible stroke of luck for some people," he said sarcastically.

Von Glower swallowed, as if he didn't even know what to say, where to start to explain himself. But really, what was there he could explain?

"You don't understand," was all von Glower finally choked out.

"Then explain me."

The other man just shook his head before opening his eyes again. "The wound is healing quickly," he said quietly. "I won't be harmless for much longer. I'd suggest you to do what you have to do, Schattenjäger. I'm the source of the tainted blood: finish me, break the curse I brought upon you. And if I can ask you a small favor, be quick."

Gabriel stared down at him, and the blade's pressure against his skin increased just enough to draw a few drops of blood. Von Glower braced himself for the end, faintly wondering what kind of afterlife he could hope for… then the Ritter dagger was removed from his chest, its tip barely tinted with red. "You couldn't hurt me even if you wanted," Gabriel was saying, as if thinking aloud. "The alpha wolf cannot hurt the beta without hurting himself just as much. That's why you couldn't shoot von Zell."

"What does it matter now?"

Gabriel ignored his question. What was wrong with him anyway? If he knew one thing about that man, it was that he enjoyed life –  _his_  life – with a fierce passion that nobody around him could miss: at no point, while telling him the various tales of his travels, he had sounded like he could ever get tired of living. Could he really have come to the point in which loneliness was simply too much to bear even for him? "What's all the rush to die?" he asked "you sound like you're looking forward to find out what a blade between your ribs feels like."

An odd expression crossed von Glower's features for a moment, a mixture of wonder and surprise and something oddly close to hope, but it disappeared so quickly that Gabriel thought he could have imagined it. "You don't want to kill me," he stated.

"I don't want to kill  _anybody_ ," was the retort, and it was true. It was one of the reasons why he hadn't been sure he would make much of a Schattenjäger: he hadn't managed to kill Malia to finish off Tetelo back in New Orleans, and he had shot von Zell just because he had no choice. Killing a wounded and helpless man was a whole other matter, and he wasn't sure he could bring himself to do it.

"But you have to."

"I wouldn't if I could avoid it! Christ," Gabriel muttered with a frustrated sigh, running his hand through his hair. What made it all worse was the fact he didn't really think von Glower deserved death; he had been the source of such evil, and yet it had never been his intention. For a moment it felt like dealing with Malia, all over again – and just like it had been with her, he couldn't bring himself to end his life. He didn't  _want_  to. Still, if it was the only way to break the taint upon himself… But wouldn't it be wrong, killing someone else to lift a curse from himself? "There must be another way," Gabriel finally heard himself muttering.

Von Glower smiled weakly, an odd sense of warmth spreading in his chest at the knowledge Gabriel wouldn't want to kill him, mixing with the guilt for putting him into such a difficult situation. To have a hunter's instinct and duty, but to lack a killer's nature; fate could be cruel in the most ironic ways. "There isn't any other way but killing the alpha – killing me. I have studied the subjected extensively, believe me."

"You could be wrong," Gabriel insisted stubbornly. He got up from his crouched position next to the cot where von Glower was lying and began walking back and forth across the cell. "Maybe there is something more about this in my library. Maybe something about curses – wasn't it a gypsy to curse you?"

"Not me. My father," von Glower spoke the last word as if it left a bitter taste in his mouth. "He passed the curse down to me. I've been a werewolf since the moment I was conceived."

_Like you were apparently born to be a Schattenjäger. And you know what it means having no choice but trying to make the best out of a situation you didn't ask to deal with, don't you?_

Gabriel chased away the thought of the nightmares that had plagued his nights – and his father's and grandfather's – because of a mistake one of his ancestors had made centuries before he was even born, the thought of how overwhelming his task seemed to him, and tried to just focus on the subjected at hand. The less he thought of the undeniable sense of kinship, the better it was. "Then maybe I could find someone who knows something about this kind of curse," he said. "I could ask-"

"Gabriel."

The Schattenjäger trailed off and glanced down at him again, looking oddly lost now that he had been snapped from his thoughts. "What?"

"It would be pointless. There truly is no other way," von Glower spoke slowly. "If you want to get back to normal, if you want to refuse the Blood, then you have no choice. You know what you have to do."

There were a few moments of silence, then Gabriel snorted, suddenly reminded of how Tetelo had been screaming at him to finish her, to finish Malia, to abandon her like Gunter Ritter had once done. "First Tetelo, and now you. This is the second time someone tries to turn me into some murderer. Well, you know what? Forget it," he snapped before turning to leave the cell, and for once he was sure he had managed to startle him, for not a sound reached his ears before he shut the door of the cell behind him and locked it. He stood there for a few seconds, his gaze unfocused, then he scowled and marched upstairs, only one coherent thought in his mind.

_I need a drink._

* * *

By that afternoon he had had more than a drink – way more – and he still couldn't make up his mind. Not that alcohol made it easier anyway. Why had he decided to have a drink again? He couldn't remember, he thought with a groan as he pushed away the empty glass.

He ignored Huber's glances as he had ignored Mrs. Smith's chattering for the whole time before she gave up and left; it was clear he was expecting him to kill von Glower, and Gabriel was sure that no amount of telling him that it hadn't been him to kill his cousin's child would make him stop thinking that he should do his job as a Schattenjäger and kill the werewolf.

_Well, isn't it what everyone is expecting you to do? It's your job, and you have more than one reason to carry it on. He is a werewolf._

_Yeah, so am I. Does that mean I deserve to die by default?_

_You won't be free from this curse unless you destroy him. Grace is right. Listen to her for once._

Grace. Gabriel grimaced a little as he thought back to how…  _betrayed_  he had felt when he had read for the first time the letter she had kept from him – von Glower's letter. Without thinking, he reached in his pocket to grab it and read it again, and then again.

In hindsight, he knew Grace had meant well: she had been afraid that his will could be overpowered in the Change and that he could actually go seeking help from von Glower, that he could actually join him. Gabriel sighed as he put the letter back in his pocket. He wished he could honestly be mad at her for not trusting him to make the right choice… but to be completely honest, he could not deny the possibility he might have actually been tempted to accept von Glower's offer had he read the letter before. He really could have, he mused, a grim expression on his face as he finally stood and walked outside, still ignoring the way Huber kept looking at him. Yes, Grace had probably done the most sensible thing, but…

_It should have been my choice._

_Yeah, whatever. You'll mope about that later – now get your brain cells working on the situation at hand. You should-_

"Herr Knight?"

Gabriel stopped in his tracks turned to see an old man standing next to him, holding his hat in his hands and looking somewhat nervous. It took him a few moments to recognize the major – Herr Habermas, wasn't it? "Yeah, that's my name," he muttered, his voice sounding a little slurred.

"People in Rittersberg are starting to get nervous. They don't like having that… monster among them," Habermas said, giving a quick nod to the entrance to the cell. "They…  _we_  want to know when you're planning on disposing of it."

"Of  _him_ ," Gabriel said a little more sharply than he meant to, the dizziness gone at once. He straightened himself. "He's a person."

The man clearly wasn't expecting that kind of reply, but to his credit he was rather quick to recover. "Of course. I suppose he is von Ralick's descendant, isn't he?"

"Yes. His son."

"In that case, I do feel for him. I really do: he was the unluckiest victim of his father's actions, and it was not his choice to be what he is. But this doesn't change the fact that he is a werewolf, and that he caused enough grief already. He must be destroyed."

Gabriel frowned. "It wasn't him to kill Toni Huber," he said. "Nor any of the other victims. It was von Zell, and him alone."

"Ja, and  _he_  is the one who created von Zell," was the retort, to which Gabriel didn't really know how to reply for a few moments. It was true: no matter what his motivation was, it had been von Glower to create the monster von Zell had become. Even indirectly, he had his share of responsibility on those deaths. Maybe von Zell was a decent person before he was bitten and lost his mind, Gabriel thought with a slight pang of sadness – Preiss had said he hadn't been that bad once, and von Glower himself had admitted that he had been different, at least before the Change. Gabriel doubted they would have been best buddies even if they met before that, but it was still kind of pitiful to think of that man's horrifying downfall.

"It wasn't what he expected would happen," he finally said, fully knowing how weak that reply was.

"But it was what happened nonetheless," Habermas pointed out, and sighed at Gabriel's stubbornness. "Not to mention it's the only way you have to break the curse upon yourself."

"There must be another way."

The old man shook his head. "I'm sorry, no. There isn't. My young friend, you have to understand I'm trying to help you. You're still young and nobody could ever prepare you properly for the things a Schattenjäger is expected to do, but this man… you cannot let him live. He would only cause more grief, and none of the people in Rittersberg will accept having the devil among them. They'd turn against you, they'd turn against their Schattenjäger for the first time ever!"

For a moment Gabriel almost took a step back – not that those people's opinion on him would affect him that much, but he knew that without the support from the people in Rittersberg it would be nearly impossible for him to keep being a Schattenjäger – then another thought crossed his mind, and he regained some confidence. "The Ritter talisman. It doesn't repel him – it has  _no effect_  on him."

"It doesn't?" Habermas seemed genuinely surprised, almost shocked. "It truly has no effect on him?"

"No. It worked against von Zell, but it has no effect on von Glower. He could touch it, and it didn't repel or hurt him," he said, faintly hoping Herr Habermas wouldn't ask how and when the baron had touched the talisman – it wouldn't be easy having to explain him what was he exactly doing in the guestroom of von Glower's residence and why he had just kept pretending he was sleeping when he had felt the other man's presence in the room and his fingers grazing at the talisman before caressing his hair. He couldn't quite answer to that last question himself, actually. "If he were, as you said, a devil… shouldn't the talisman be like holy water or something like it to him anyway?"

"It should," Habermas still looked extremely baffled. "This is… the first time I hear of something like this happening."

"Could it mean something?" Gabriel asked almost hopefully. He honestly had no idea why he was so eager to find a way to delay the moment he would have to carry on his duty and finish von Glower – shouldn't he be looking forward to that so he could break the curse on himself? – but he wanted, he  _needed_  some more time.

The other man nodded slowly. "I guess it could. Maybe he isn't truly damned yet, but…"

"I have to find out," Gabriel interrupted him, an odd sense of euphoria pervading him, not even caring Habermas could see past the blatant excuse. "But I'll need more time. Do you think you could gain more time for me?"

"Well…" Habermas was giving him an odd look, but he finally nodded slowly. "I'll see what I can do. I think I can convince the people to wait, but one thing is for sure: the werewolf cannot stay here in town. People don't feel safe. And to be honest, I share their feelings."

"I'll bring him to Schloss Ritter," Gabriel turned up to glance at what he was almost starting to think of as his home. "He'll be locked up safely until I find out more about this. Tell the people in town that they have nothing to fear."

The man sighed. "I will. I just hope you know what you're doing, Herr Knight."

_Yeah, same here._

"You have nothing to worry about," Gabriel reassured him again before he turned his back to him and began walking to Schloss Ritter. "We'll take him away from here before night."

No reply came, and as he turned the corner Gabriel couldn't help but think that it had pretty easy convincing him after all. It would probably be much more difficult trying to convince Grace, but he'd manage. That wasn't what worried him… not too much anyway.

What really bothered him was that he had no idea why he was so desperate to find a way to spare von Glower's life.

* * *

"YOU WHAT?"

_Well, she took it better than I thought._

"Gracie, it's not like I invited him to have tea and crumpets. I just-"

"No, you're more likely to offer him some brandy or a cigar," Grace snapped. "Gabriel, he's a werewolf!"

"Oh, is he?" Gabriel rolled his eyes. "I'm shocked."

"And he turned you into one, in case you didn't notice  _that_!" she folded her arms, a scowl on her face.

"It wasn't  _him_ , it was-"

"Von Zell, right! And who turned von Zell into a monster?" she retorted. "He did! And he was planning to do the same with you since the first moment. Why are you making up excuses for him? You should have ended this already!"

"Ended  _this_?" Gabriel scoffed. "Why sugar coat it, Gracie? You're saying I should  _kill_ him," he said, an almost vicious note in his voice, and Grace seemed startled for a moment before she recollected.

"Don't try to guilt me into saying you're right, Gabriel! You know it's the only sensible thing to do!"

"Yeah, and I do sensible stuff since…?"

Grace let out a frustrated sigh. "You just don't  _get_ it, do you?"

"Nope. If you're so impatient to see the big bad wolf dead, why didn't you finish him yourself at the Opera?" he sneered, feeling irrationally angry with her. Did she think it would be that easy for him killing an helpless, wounded man who had never really meant any harm to him and  _still_ look at his face in the mirror every morning?

"Because it wouldn't have turned  _you_ back to normal if it were  _me_ to kill him!" Grace seemed exasperated now. "Look, it's not like I want him dead just  _because_ , okay? I want you to be rid of the curse!" she almost shouted, and much to her horror her voice almost broke for a moment.

How could he not realize how important that was? By not killing von Glower that night she had denied Ludwig's soul the peace he had been seeking for such a long time; the thought had made her feel horrible, but she had ignored it for Gabriel's sake. But now Gabriel refused to finish von Glower and lift the curse from himself, and if he didn't all would have been useless: Grace would have been unable to save either him or Ludwig while she had had a chance to save them both. The thought was maddening.

Gabriel seemed to finally realize how deeply bothered she was, for his voice softened. "Gracie, listen…"

He shook her head, cutting him off. "No,  _you_ listen. You won't kill him? Fine. You want to keep him here?  _Fine_. But I hope you have something resembling to a plan in mind for once in your life, because what  _won't_ be fine with me will be waking up one morning to find out you lost control and slaughtered someone."

He sighed. "It won't happen, Gracie," he said quietly. "I promise."

"Well, I hope you'll keep at least that one promise ," she said forcefully before she turned to leave, barely holding back from saying aloud what she had been thinking during the whole exchange.

_I shouldn't have given you that letter._

* * *

"Are you sure it's safe?" Mrs. Smith asked a little worriedly.

"No. Gabriel thinks it is, but he also thinks all women find him irresistible," Grace muttered, still glancing at von Glower's motionless form as if she expected him to leap on them any moment. She had come with Gabriel to collect him just to make sure he wouldn't do anything incredibly stupid like, say, setting him free – she doubted he could get  _that_  irresponsible, but you can never be too sure – but it didn't mean she  _wanted_  to be there in the first place.

"I put enough sleeping powder in his water to take down a bull," Mr. Smith replied, sounding a little proud for some reason. "And I made sure he drank it all. It's perfectly safe – and he's wounded anyway."

"What if it wears off before we're in Schloss Ritter?"

"Well, he could if we don't hurry up," Gabriel muttered, taking a step forward. "And I wouldn't want to stay here and wait for people to know we're about to move him. They could make things more complicated for us."

Grace snorted a little. "Can't blame them," she said. She almost expected Gabriel to retort, but he just pressed his lips tighter together and turned to Mr. Smith.

"A little help?" he asked, reaching to grab von Glower under his shoulders. "I can't drag him in the car by myself."

"Of course," Smith immediately stepped closer to grab the unconscious man, taking a moment to make sure the blanket wouldn't fall off him – considering that he was no clothes underneath, it would feel rather awkward if it did.

Thankfully, it only took a few minutes to bring him upstairs and into the car they had parked in the square – going up to Schloss Ritter with the car was about to be a bumpy ride, but carrying him on foot all the way was out of question – and in those minutes he didn't even stir, nor anyone showed up to spill his blood. It looked like Herr Habermas had been convincing… or maybe no one had the courage to get too close to the werewolf, Gabriel thought with a small smirk as they leaned him on the backseat.

He reached to lift the blanket just enough to see the wound on von Glower's side, and he wasn't too surprised to see just how quickly it was healing – the signs of von Zell's bite had vanished from his flesh even more quickly. He'd be back on his feet in a day or two at most, he thought somewhat uncomfortably before he pulled the blanked back on him. Gabriel's gaze lingered on him for a few more moments before he stepped back and shut the car's door.

"We're ready to go. Thanks a lot for your help – your next drink is on me," he said, turning to the Smiths. "Drop by sometime, okay?"

"Of course we will, dear," was Mrs. Smith's reply. "You still have so much to tell us about this…!"

"And I will," Gabriel promised. Not that he was looking forward to it, but… he did owe them quite a lot since they had helped Grace and Gerde to look after him in the past couple of months. "How long are you staying?"

"As long as necessary, dear," she said, her gaze lingering on the car where von Glower was still sleeping for a few moments before she turned back to Gabriel. "I'm always here if you need advice. And whatever you decide… think it thoroughly," she added, and suddenly Gabriel got the distinct feeling that she did suspect there could be a bond between him and von Glower, that she knew that bond was the reason why he couldn't bring himself to kill him.

She had read the letter, Gabriel finally remembered. Man, had Grace let  _everyone_  but him read it? He almost turned to scowl at her, but then he remembered that Mrs. Smith was waiting for an answer. "Er… sure, I will. Thanks for the advice," he said quickly before sitting in the driver seat and closing the door.

"Good luck!" Mr. Smith echoed her and he probably added something else, but Gabriel didn't hear it as Grace sat on the passenger seat and slammed the door shut, glaring warily at von Glower's sleeping form on the backseat through the rear mirror. She was scowling, clearly not happy with the current situation, but she said nothing and just turned to glance outside through the windshield.

"I just hope you know what you're doing," she said a little stiffly.

Gabriel frowned. "Regardless what you think, I  _do_ ," he replied as he started the car and began driving slowly up to Schloss Ritter, not even minding the fact it was a complete lie: he had no idea of what he was doing. Well, he actually knew that – he was trying to save von Glower's butt – but he had no idea  _why_  he was doing it… nor he knew what he was going to do next.

All he knew was that he couldn't kill him without at least trying to find another way to break the curse, and that the people of Rittersberg would kill him themselves if he left him there any longer. Schloss Ritter was the safest place for him.

As long as Grace didn't decide to take the matter in her own hands.


	3. Nightmares

Gabriel hadn't exactly been happy to find a handful of men standing outside the entrance of Schloss Ritter, and for a moment he had thought they might want to kill von Glower themselves. He had relaxed a little when he had realized they just wanted to make sure the werewolf would be really locked up safely and in chains while in the castle. That had still annoyed Gabriel a little – not that their mistrust surprised him since he was a foreigner and kinda new to that whole Schattenjäger thing, but still – but he hadn't protested: even he could tell it wouldn't be wise denying them that.

So he had let them assisting him to carry a still unconscious von Glower to the castle's dungeon – which Gabriel had barely visited before that day – and into the cell Gerde had set ready for him. For some reason he had felt rather grateful to her when he had realized that she had chosen the biggest and less humid cell, and that she had brought a mattress, pillows and blankets down there. It was no five-stars hotel, but it would be better than sleeping on the floor. Hell, it looked even better than that awfully uncomfortable cot in the cell back in Rittersberg.

Still, it hadn't been enough. The men had insisted to check the walls to make sure they were solid, then the door – a thick iron door that Gabriel was sure not even a pack of werewolves could knock down – and then they had insisted to shackle von Glower to the ground with some rusty shackles they had found in a corner. For a moment Gabriel had considered opposing to that, but then he had felt Grace's hand gripping his arm and he had simply nodded. He could always take them off him later after all – for now he just wanted those guys to get the hell out of there without having to put up with any kind of discussion: it was clear they felt like they were doing him a favor by not burning von Glower at the stake already.

Still, for some reason, he had felt rage burning in his chest as he watched them shackling von Glower's wrists as he lay unconscious on the mattress, and it had taken him an awful effort to not protest when one of them went to shackle his neck as well. Did they think they were dealing with a dog?

_Well. Close enough._

"We're done here," one of the men finally said, as though Gabriel had ever asked for them to do anything. "If you have any kind of trouble, do call for us."

_Yeah, right. When pigs will fly._

"Sure," he had replied instead as he escorted them to the entrance again.

"And tell us, Herr Knight," one of the men had asked, staring at him intently as if he hoped he could read his mind. "How long do you think you'll be keeping him here?"

_What the hell, guys, are you all so impatient to see somebody die? Well, I'm not. Get ready for a long wait._

"As long as necessary," was all he said before literally shutting the door on their face.

"They have a point, you know," Grace muttered from behind him, her arms folded. "It's not like I'm leaping with joy at the idea of having that guy under the same roof."

"Don't start again, Grace," he snapped, then he sighed – if they got into an argument again, there would be no ending it. "Look, we'll talk about this tomorrow, okay?" he said instead, walking past her and back to the stairs leading to the dungeon.

"You're not getting down there again already, are you?"

"Grace,  _relax_. I'm just bringing him some water – I bet he'll be thirsty as hell when he wakes up."

"Or  _hungry_  as hell, and it would be nice if you weren't there when it happens," she pointed out. "Not alone. I'm coming with you."

"No," Gabriel said, turning to glance at her and causing her to stop in her tracks. "I'll be the only one to get in there as long as he's here. And Gerde, only to take care of the wound. It would be too dangerous if you had to get near him."

"It's not like I'm some helpless damsel, Gabriel! I can take care of myself, and he doesn't scare me!"

"That's exactly why it will be Gerde to clean the wound. It's  _you_  I'd be worried about in case you get in there," was all Gabriel said before finally walking downstairs. He couldn't hear her reply really clearly, but he got a general idea, and it made him chuckle as he reached for the flask of water. He hadn't really lied to her – he  _was_  bringing von Glower some water – but the main reason why he was getting in the cell already was that he wanted to take those shackles off him, especially the one around his neck. It really bothered him to see him shackled like an animal; werewolf or not, he was still a man. He couldn't allow himself to stop thinking of von Glower as a human being even for an instant: if he did, he would have to stop thinking of  _himself_  as a human being… and he didn't like the idea at all, he thought as he opened the cell and walked in.

At the dim light of the small lamp Gerde had left there to give him at least some light, maybe unaware of the fact he could see in the dark just fine, Gabriel could see his form still slumped in the mattress in the same position he had been when they had left – on his back, with his hands chained at his sides and his head tiled to one side – and for a moment he looked so helpless that his sight almost stung Gabriel. He knelt and put the flask on the ground next to the mattress so that it would be within his reach should he wake up and feel thirsty, then he reached to take off the shackle around his right wrist. He wasn't too surprised when he saw von Glower's eyes opening a little to look at him. Still, he wasn't worried. He didn't think he could put up much of a fight now, and even if he could he didn't think he  _would_.

"If I take them off you," Gabriel said slowly to make sure he'd understand, shaking the chains a little and getting a slight clattering noise out of them. "Do I have your word that you won't do anything stupid?"

Von Glower's eyes moved to the shackle around his wrist for a moment, and he had to swallow twice before he could speak. "Yes," he said in a raspy whisper. He stayed slumped on the mattress and didn't move as Gabriel unshackled his wrists and then went to take the third shackle off his neck, and it wasn't until he pulled back that Gabriel realized he had fallen back asleep.

"Looks like Mr. Smith put too much of that stuff in your drink," he said quietly, reaching to brush some hair away from von Glower's face without even realizing it before he pulled the blanket over him again to shield him from the cool air in the room. He got up, taking a mental note to get him some clothes… maybe after he figured out a good explanation on why he was keeping him alive, both for himself and everyone else.

He stood there for a few more minutes, just watching him sleep, then he sighed and left, silently closing the door behind him. Von Glower stirred a little but did not wake up at the noise of a key turning in the lock.

* * *

She was in her grandparents' house, she knew that least that much.

In their dining room, really – the place where as a kid she had spent countless afternoons listening to hunting tales from her uncle while the rest of their relatives kept talking about banking and some other boring stuff like that. Her mother didn't really like it, either because she would have wanted her to actually listen to stuff she had no chance to understand or because she just didn't like her daughter's admiration towards her brother – a very generous soul could have called their relationship strained at best – but she had never really found and excuse to keep him from telling her about his hunts, or her from listening.

But now that room seemed so different from how it was last time she had been there to pay a visit to her senile grandmother, barely a couple of days earlier: it looked like it had been abandoned for years. There was dust everywhere, cobwebs in the corners, and she could have sworn she had seen a mouse darting outside the room when she had – somehow – gotten in. The high, huge windows were so dirty that they barely let any light in; most of the light came from just one window whose glass had been shattered, and some old stains of something that looked a lot like blood were on the ground among the shards.

The light that made it past the broken window was dim, just enough to see the long table on which her relatives would dine almost every Sunday when her grandfather was alive. It was set for a dinner that had clearly never happened, all empty dishes and crystal glasses and silver cutlery covered with thick layers of dust that seemed to be crusting in some points. There were a few covered silver trays too, but she definitely didn't feel like taking a look at whatever could be inside.

Well, she thought a little grimly, the cheerful atmosphere was one thing that definitely hadn't changed from the time she would dine there with her relatives. It would probably be more fun now with just a little…

She was suddenly snapped form her thoughts as she caught a movement in the corner of her eye. She immediately turned, ready to yell at whatever idiot had gotten in there that it was private property and that they had better get the fuck out of there, but then her thoughts froze and she could only keep staring dumbly at the man sitting on an armchair just next to the fireplace – the same armchair he would sit onto any time he got tired of the banking discussions around the table – and reading a newspaper, all his attention focused on it. She stared at him for a few moments, shut her eyes and then opened them, and he was still there.

She finally took a step forward, her heart beating somewhere in her throat. "Uncle Garr?" she called out.

Baron Garr von Zell raised his gaze from the newspaper and finally glanced at her. He looked everything like last time she had seen him, aside from a… a… there was  _something_  in his eyes that was off, something that she couldn't quite define, and he didn't even speak – he just stared at her as she walked closer, the way a predator observes a unaware prey getting closer. But it was him, he was alive, and he was there.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, taking another step forward "they all think you're dead, they're looking for you! Where have you-" she trailed off and blinked in surprise as he suddenly threw the newspaper at her. She instinctively caught it and looked down at it. On the first page there was a picture of a man with blonde hair she had never seen before, and under the picture there was nothing written but a name – Gabriel Knight.

"Gabriel Knight?" she frowned – the picture reminded her of nobody she knew, but she couldn't ignore the sensation that she had heard that name somewhere. But where…?

"Find him," von Zell's voice reached her ears, harsh and commanding, before it turned into some kind of growl.

She raised her gaze from the newspaper, then she froze, the newspaper falling from her numb fingers as she saw that he wasn't on the armchair anymore: in his place sat a huge, reddish wolf staring at her with flaming eyes. It bared its teeth, and she could see the beast's fangs were reddened with blood, and there was blood matting the fur on its muzzle and chest too.

A sudden memory filled her mind – uncle Garr telling his young niece his very own version of Little Red Riding Hood after she had expressed her dislike for the actual tale. Whenever her mother was out of earshot, he wouldn't spare any gruesome detail about how the wolf fed on the unfortunate little girl, eating liver, heart and lungs first. Maybe he had hoped he would scare her into not bothering him again, but his plan had backfired on him since Elsa always looked forward to hear that part.

But now that it looked like she was about to experience it herself, it suddenly didn't seem so amusing anymore. Her heart began beating faster and faster for her body to be ready to fight or flee… but she suddenly found herself unable to do either, as if she were glued to the ground. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound left her… or the wolf. It didn't even growl: it simply opened its blood-dripping jaws and leapt on her, silent as a ghost.

* * *

_Thud_.

"Verdammt!"

The hardness of the floor as she hit it heavily was a rather rough welcome back to consciousness, and it wasn't exactly appreciated at first. Still, after a few deep breaths and a couple of minutes to clear her mind and remember exactly what she had just dreamed, Elsa Schröder supposed she could gladly deal with a bruise or two as long as it meant she was awake, with not supposedly dead uncle or wolf sitting around.

"Weirdest nightmare yet, and that's saying a lot," Elsa muttered to no one in particular as she got up from her floor and sat on the edge of her bed, trying to keep her breathing steady. Maybe that whole mess with uncle Garr's disappearance  _was_  affecting her after all, and not in a good way.

For a moment it occurred to her that she should stop thinking about it too much, as her mother had told her to, but she dismissed the idea with a snort. Not only because the idea of pretty much admitting her mother could be right about something made her stomach turn, but also because she wanted to find him – to find his body, since at that point everyone knew he had to be dead. Oh, she wasn't the only one who wanted to find it: all her relatives did, especially her mother… mainly because with no body, they would have to wait a lot more to get their hands on his will.

Not that the rush to find a body didn't amuse her – she could have watched those vultures squirming for years without getting tired of the show – but she wished it could be found herself: she didn't exactly love the thought some animal could be feasting on the corpse of her only relative she could stand.

_Animals like the one you dreamed of?_

Elsa scowled, an uncomfortable feeling in her stomach at the thought, and she focused back on her dream – more precisely, on the name she had read on the newspaper her uncle had thrown to her. "Gabriel Knight," she murmured, her scowl deepening. She had heard that name already, she knew she had. But where? Had her uncle ever mentioned it? No, she didn't think so. The only things he would share with her or relative about his personal life were his hunting trips, and she was pretty sure that the only person he had mentioned in more than one occasion was one Baron von Glower. When could she have heard that then? When asking for news at the policemen who were on the case since her mother wouldn't bother, maybe…?

A sudden thought hit her and she jumped on her feet again. She strode to her desk, opened the window to let the early morning light into the room and then she opened a drawer and took a small notebook from it. She opened it and began flipping through the pages impatiently, almost tearing away some of them with her nervous gestures until she found the entry she had been looking for.

_Today it's been a month since when he disappeared; the police is admitting that the chances he could be alive are little to none. Zero to none, if you ask to me. With two wolves on the loose those days, it's way too easy to guess what happened. Poor Garr, his passion for hunting cost him his life. Poor Garr, we can only hope he didn't suffer. Poor Garr, if only we could find his body so that he could rest in peace. And so that we can read his will and take his place, but that's the part they won't say aloud, not in public or to grandma._

_It seems so logic at first sight, but it still doesn't click with me. They said he was out hunting, but his rifle and hunting clothes were still in the hunting lodge, and none of the recent wolf killings had made all the remains disappear anyway – there wasn't even a limb left this time. It's like he just vanished. They said he probably got lost, but that's impossible. He knew that place like the back of his hand, I'm sure he did._

_Also, I know that some of the guys he was at the hunting lodge with owed him money – a lot of money. Why didn't anyone look more thoroughly in it? One of them said that he didn't get along with most of them lately, that he had even fallen apart with this von Glower he mentioned sometimes and that he had a strong dislike for one Gabriel Knight – why did they only ask a few questions to each of them before dismissing them and getting back looking for a corpse in the woods? It was a mere formality, nothing close to an actual investigation._

_I don't think uncle Garr got lost. I don't believe any of this wolves crap. I don't think it was any kind of hunting accident. Something else must have happened_

Now she remembered where she had heard that name! He was among the people who were part of the hunting club, one of those who were in the hunting lodge the night her uncle had disappeared in the woods. And, according to what the police had told her, he was hunting with him and von Glower until they split up, and then some animal had attacked him.

"Probably a wolf, judging from the wound," the policeman had told her. "The poor man, he was really sick when we asked him about that night. We had to send someone to interrogate him because he was too weak to come to the police station. I really don't think he or anyone else from the club could have something to do with Baron von Zell's disappearance, believe me. Maybe one of the wolves got him, or maybe he got lost – in any case, we'll keep searching. Now go home, you must be tired."

She had been tempted to tell him to mind his own damn business, but eventually she had just gone home because she  _was_  tired. She still wasn't convinced, but what was she to do? Everyone was all over the hunting accident or wolf attack theories, and she was sure nobody would ever even try to find anything that could support any other theory. The last male heir of the von Zell family had been an important man, but most men in the club were just as important, influent… and still alive to make their influence count. Any suspect there could be against them would forever stay just a suspect. Hell, her own relatives preferred it that way: they had to think it would be better for everyone that he died in some accident rather than because of anything else that could compromise his reputation and theirs.

Maybe her grandparents would have behaved differently – he was their treasured and only son after all – but her grandmother had no idea what was happening around her anymore, and her grandfather had died years before in no better condition, screaming that communists were coming to get him. None of those left would put the truth before their interest, and they had a hell of a lot of power to press on the police.

_So no matter what really happened, it will officially have been some accident._

"Seems like it," Elsa muttered with a sigh, looking down at the notebook, and she was about to close it… but then her gaze fell on that name again. Gabriel Knight.

That name. Of all the people in that hunting club, why had it been that name she had read in her dream…?

_It just stuck in your brain somehow. It's not like it means anything. Close that thing and go get yourself some breakfast._

Elsa did neither. She read that line again.

_One of them said he didn't get along with most of them lately, and that he had a strong dislike for one Gabriel Knight._

Find him, uncle Garr had said in her dream. An order, harsh and demanding – no please nor thank you. So like him. "Why did he dislike him so much anyway?" she asked to the empty room, trying to recall the picture of the blonde man she had seen in her dream – since when pictures on newspapers came in color anyway? – and the memory of that man's face triggered a completely unexpected reaction from her: she suddenly felt an irrational, burning wave of hatred against him, and it took her a few moments to realize how she had been clutching at the notebook. Just a little more strength, and she'd tear it in two.

She drew in a deep breath, trying to calm down. What the hell was wrong with her? She had always been prone to anger, often violent anger, but usually with a damn reason and never over someone she had never even met in her life. Hell, she didn't even know if he actually looked anything like in the picture she had seen! She frowned – where did that face come from anyway? It surely wasn't familiar. Was there really someone who looked like that? Could it really be that Gabriel Knight's face she had seen? She closed the notebook and stared at the cover thoughtfully, then she smiled a little. Well, there was only a way to find out, wasn't there?

"Find him," she whispered to the empty room.

_You can't be serious. It was just a dream._

_Sure it was._

_So what the hell makes you think that looking for this Gabriel Knight would be of any use? All you have is a weird dream and a gut feeling._

_Nothing. But it can't hurt, can it?_

_Perfect, you finally went insane. This is your one-way ticket for Crazyland, Elsa._

_Well, at least I finally picked a place to spend my summer vacation, didn't I?_

* * *

Grace could feel her palms sweating as she listened to the end of Act Two. It was almost time, she thought, unconsciously reaching to rest a hand on the spotlight. But it wasn't time, not yet. She had to wait a little more, just a little more.

She reached to take the Opera glasses and took another look towards von Glower's seat, and breath caught in her throat as she saw it – a huge black wolf sitting where von Glower should have been, all its attention still focused on the play.

Grace opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She glanced at the other people in the theater, and she was horrified and astonished to see that none of them seemed to have noticed the wolf sitting among them; Leber was still enjoying the performance, not even glancing in the beast's direction.

"What the hell are you doing?" she managed to croak even though she knew that nobody could hear her. "There's a werewolf in the theater! It's right there! How can you not see it? It's right-" she trailed off, her voice dying in her throat as she turned again to see that the seat was now empty, the black wolf gone.

Gone.

It had escaped the trap.

A sense of dread suddenly filled her, making her feel dizzy. What now? What could she do now? And Gabriel, what would become of Gabriel if they couldn't-

A sudden pressure on her right shoulder, followed by a horrible coldness that seemed to spread from her shoulder and down her back, snapped her from her panicked thoughts. Grace drew in a sharp breath and turned to see Ludwig II of Bavaria standing behind her, his blue eyes fixed on hers, his face a mask of despair and hopelessness. He didn't speak, but there was no need for him to – Grace could guess his mute accusation as if she had heard it.

_Why? Why didn't you destroy him? Why didn't you set me free?_

She shut her eyes and tried to speak, her voice breaking. "I'm sorry, I… I tried. I did my best, but-" she trailed off as she heard a howl coming from below, from the theater's basement. "Gabriel!" she cried out, immediately running past Ludwig – through him – and to the door. She hastily opened it and ran outside…

But she didn't step in the hallway as she had expected, and she suddenly knew that it had to be all a dream. She wasn't even in the theater anymore: she was on the shore of the lake where Ludwig had drowned himself to escape the nightmare his life had turned into, to keep anyone from finding out what he had been turned into. She gasped as she saw a corpse floating face down near the shore – the doctor Ludwig had to drown before he could kill himself – and she looked up to see Ludwig himself walking towards the center of the lake, towards his death, the water now reaching his shoulders.

For a moment she almost forgot that she was just dreaming, looking at past events she had no power to change. For a moment she almost screamed for Ludwig to stop, to not kill himself, she almost tried to run towards the lake to stop him… but she eventually did neither and could only stay glued where she stood, feeling as if a weight settled on her chest as Ludwig finally sank in the water.

His last words, barely more than a whisper, were brought to her by the breeze.

_Curse you to hell. May God damn you, my love._

* * *

"No!"

Grace awoke with a start in the guest room Gerde had set up for her after Gabriel had gotten back to Schloss Ritter, and despite the dim light coming from the window it took her a few moments to regain a bearing of her surroundings. After a few moments of confusion she finally drew several deep breaths and let her arm – the arm she had been stretching out to the empty room without even realizing it – fall back on the bed. She sighed and pressed her hands on her sweaty face as Ludwig's mute question played in her mind over and over.

_Why didn't you destroy him? Why didn't you set me free?_

The sense of guilt she had been feeling any time she allowed herself to think that she had failed him despite all the help he had given her and denied his soul the peace he deserved for Gabriel's sake suddenly felt overwhelming. But what else was she supposed to do? She wanted Gabriel to be free from the curse. He  _had_  to be free from that curse!

_And still, now he's wasting his one chance to free himself from it. You denied Ludwig his eternal rest to give him that chance, and he's wasting it. What have you accomplished?_

Nothing. She had accomplished nothing – she had failed to help Ludwig, and maybe even Gabriel was beyond her help now. Grace wasn't one to break down easily, but the guilt and worry and frustration was just too much. She shut her eyes and gave a dry sob.

"I'm sorry," she whispered to the empty room. "I'm so sorry."


	4. Enter Mosely

Gerde paused in front of the door that led to von Glower's cell, a little unsure. She really couldn't say she was looking forward to get too close to a werewolf, and she probably wouldn't have even tried to approach him if Gabriel hadn't been so certain that he wouldn't harm her in any way. He had actually asked her if she wanted him to come with her if she felt safer – he had admitted he wouldn't even know how to tend a wound himself – but it looked like he had still quite a lot of books to finish reading in the library, and she had declined. She would do just fine, or so she hoped.

She held her breath without even realizing it as she turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open as silently as she could. Not that there was much of a point since she was about to have to wake up the werewolf to treat his wound, but she still felt nervous – she had never been that close to a creature like that in her life, and she'd rather not get his attention on her before it was necessary.

Not that trying to be silent really helped. Apparently what she had heard about werewolves' sense of hearing at smell had been accurate, for the moment she stepped inside he was already sitting up on the mattress. The blanket had fallen mostly off him, and Gerde was both relieved and oddly amused by how he immediately wrapped it back around himself as he saw her – one would have thought that someone who was a wild beast deep inside wouldn't really care to be in a proper state of dressing in front of a woman. It was likely for for her modesty's sake than his own. For some reason, that gesture gave her some confidence: it felt more like dealing with just a wounded man rather than with a supernatural creature.

"I'm here to treat your wound," said quietly, kneeling next to the mattress and putting the medical supplies on the ground. "And I brought some more water."

"There is no need to put yourself through the trouble. Both bullets exited the wound, and I heal quickly," von Glower said. "It's healing on its own already. But thank you for the water," he gave her a small smile, and Gerde suddenly found it easier to believe Gabriel's words on how he wouldn't harm her. Now she found it difficult to believe that he could really be the same creature everyone in Rittersberg was talking about with fear and loathing.

"Gabriel told me to tend to the wound, and I will," she finally said, reaching for the disinfectant and clean bandages. "It can't hurt in any case."

"No, I suppose it wouldn't," von Glower said, and stayed still as she pushed the blanked down just enough to undo the old bandages and start cleaning the wound, his gaze distant and fixed ahead as if he could see something she couldn't. He didn't even wince. There were a few minutes of silence before Gerde spoke again.

"It was you to send the talisman back to Gabriel, wasn't it?" she asked.

"Yes. He lost it in the struggle with von Zell. I found it after when I went to dispose of the corpse, and I thought I should return it to its rightful owner."

Gerde nodded. "Thank you for sending it back," she said quietly, her fingers gentle on the almost healed wound – it looked like it had been inflicted weeks ago rather than just little more than a day before. "Wolfgang… someone dear to me gave his life to have it back for him."

Von Glower nodded slightly. "It belongs to Gabriel. I couldn't take it from him."

Gerde bit her lower lip. "And it didn't affect you? Not one bit?" she asked. From what Wolfgang had told her about the Ritter talisman, she knew it was supposed to repel anything dark and evil. If that creature wasn't affected by it… could it be that he was neither? From what Gabriel had told them, he had even saved his life.

"No. I did feel an odd… sensation when I touched it," he said, thinking of the odd prickling that made the hair behind his neck stand on end… though the first time it had happened he had only thought it was because of the thrill of watching Gabriel sleeping, helpless and naked under the sheets. "But nothing really unpleasant. I could hold it easily."

"Oh," Gerde frowned in thought a little, but she said nothing for a few more minutes. Finally, she finished wrapping the bandages and got up. "You were right, it's almost healed. You won't need anything more on that wound. At this rate, it will have healed completely tomorrow already," she added, and paused for a moment. "Do you want something to eat? It's almost time to make breakfast after all."

"No, if it's of any trouble. I can wait a while longer."

"It's not trouble at all. I'll be back in half a hour," Gerde told him, turning to leave. No, she thought, he really didn't seem an evil, dark creature to her. She knew she shouldn't trust appearances too much – Wolfgang had always told her that some of the most awful and dangerous creatures are often the ones who seem harmless, and she knew he was right – but this one's actions...

Lost in thoughts, Gerde almost bumped in the person who was standing just outside the cell – Grace.

"I have to get in for a moment," she told her, her jaw clenched as always when she was determined to carry on with whatever she had in mind. "Don't worry, it will take a minute and I'll try my hardest to not behead him," she added quickly as she noticed Gerde's hesitation – Gabriel's words on how she shouldn't let Grace in the cell had been pretty clear. "I just want him to see something."

"Oh," Gerde glanced down to see she was holding something in her hand – several sheets of paper. "What is it?"

"Something he has to read," Grace replied, her voice cold. "You can stay to make sure I don't do what your Schattenjäger should have done already if you want to."

Gerde sighed. "I'll be right outside," she said quietly, finally stepping aside to let Grace in.

Grace grimaced a little as she saw the man – no, that wasn't a man, and she couldn't allow herself to think of him as one – sitting on the mattress against the opposite wall. It looked like Gabriel had even taken off the shackles. What was he thinking? She scoffed in annoyance and finally stared at von Glower's face. There was nothing threatening in his expression or demeanour, but it still annoyed her how infuriatingly calm he was, as if nothing of what was happening bothered him. How dare he be so calm after all the grief he had caused?

"I remember you," von Glower finally spoke, his voice just as calm as his expression. "At the Opera. You're the one who set up the trap, aren't you?"

"Yes," Grace's reply was a hiss filled with a mixture of pride and rage. If only Leber had shot him in his head or heart, she mused, if only he didn't turn back to human before Leber decided to finish him.

"It was quite an elaborated trap," he was saying, snapping her from her thoughts. "I'm impressed."

"If only it  _worked_ ," Grace snapped. "It wasn't me to come up with it. It was Ludwig. To destroy you," she added viciously, and she felt an odd sense of triumph when she realized she had finally managed to unsettle him. However, it only lasted a moment – an instant later, his expression was just as unreadable as before.

"He was a resourceful man," he said blankly.

Grace frowned. "Don't you even  _care_  that he hated you enough to want you dead?" she asked, the thought bothering her deeply for some reason.

Von Glower's expression stayed blank. "It's not too much of a surprise," he said quietly. "He wouldn't even meet me in his last years."

"And he had every reason to not even want to look at you!" Grace snapped, suddenly feeling even more furious – but of course, von Glower never had to deal with Ludwig's spirit trying to ask for help, he never had to feel his despair and to feel like he had failed him for not carrying the trap at the Opera to its end. "Do you have any idea in what kind of hell you turned his life, and his afterlife? I  _do_ ," she threw the sheets of paper with the translation of Ludwig's diary on the mattress. "Why don't you take a look to his diary?"

"His…?" von Glower turned to glance at the papers on the mattress – was that really Ludwig's diary? If so, he could only imagine what there could be written about him. The thought of finding out just how deep Ludwig's contempt for him had been made him suddenly feel awfully cold. He shut his eyes to not see the pages.

"Well? Do I have to read it or what?" Grace's voice reached his ears again, and he finally opened his eyes. He turned to look at her, and for a moment his expression seemed almost pleading, but she didn't seem to notice. "Just read it once, and I'll leave you alone. It's not like I want to stay here any more than necessary anyway."

He turned to stare at the papers for a few more instants before he finally reached to take them in his hands, bracing himself for whatever hateful words he might read.

_11_ _th_ _June, 1872  
Louis has convinced me to think matters through more thoroughly before I act. A trip is shall be, then, to _ _Schachen._ _It shall not alter my purpose, I feel, nor shall his compelling. The treaty is the ruin of my beloved Bavaria and must be disposed of, whatever the cost! I regret now ever having made the decision. Of course, Louis makes the same arguments now as he and so many others did then, but I have grown deaf to that point of view. War or not, Bavaria must wear her own crown._

Von Glower shut his eyes. He remembered that trip so well – it was meant to keep Ludwig away from the insidious court while he attempted to make him change his mind so that no drastic measures should be taken... and, failing to do so, he had hoped he could tell him the truth about his nature and convince him to flee together. Instead, it had been the beginning of Ludwig's downfall. He swallowed and, still feeling that woman's eyes on him, went to read the following page.

_3_ _rd_ _July, 1872  
Pain, pain, pain. The pain is so bad, I cannot hold a pen to write. Oh, what has happened! But the pain is not the worst of it. The horror is far more unbearable. _ _He says that we can be truly one now, that it is a great adventure. When he is next to me and I can look into his eyes, I believe him. But the moment he turns away I feel the horror of it! I can feel the flames of hell upon my heels! Oh most unnatural state! Surely God cannot look upon such a creature. I pray to the blessed Virgin everyday for intercession for my soul!_

Von Glower remembered how pained and frightened Ludwig had been during the Change, how delirious he had been while the fever devastated his body and mind – he remembered it all too well. He had tried his best to reassure him, to let him know that everything would be fine, but it had been no use. Ludwig had never been the same from that moment on, the horror and pain of the Change destroying his mind little by little. He had grown more and more withdrawn, and he had eventually lost contact with anyone… him included.

With a sigh, von Glower read through a few more pages. The entries had become scarce throughout the years, and every entry was a cry of pain, a prayer, a vow to not succumb to the Beast – and even though each of these words oozed with despair, nothing could have prepared von Glower for the pain and hatred in his next entry: he had almost forgotten how viciously Ludwig had grown to despise him after he found out the truth about his role in Bismarck's web of lies and deception. He had willed himself to forget.

_10_ _th_ _September 1880  
_ _It is all finished. My life, my world, everything. Elizabeth warned me and I discovered the truth at last. He was set upon me by that Prussian jackal! It was all a lie, the Great Lie! Oh most venomous viper at my very bosom! Oh lowest of the least worthy who ever breathed! My Judas! My devil! He dares still swear he loves me. I spit on his words! If I could tear my heart out and fling it after him in the dirt, I would, I would!_

The pained expression crossed von Glower's features just for an instant, but it was enough for Grace to see it and feel a vicious sense of victory. At that point, whether he had honestly cared for Ludwig didn't really matter to her: he had destroyed him, and she wanted him to know that. That, and that she wouldn't let him destroy Gabriel the same way. She frowned and kept her eyes fixed on von Glower as he kept reading.

_12_ _th_ _December 1880  
_ _He continues to come and beg at my door, the devil. I will never look upon his hideous face again. He is afraid I will tell, and I might, I might! To destroy him, I might! When I think on the Change, now that things are clear, I wonder – what was his true intent? Was it an accident, as he swore to me then, or had he plotted with that jackal to destroy me? If so, why did he not simply kill me then instead of putting me in this torment? Could he have hated me that much?_

No, he couldn't keep reading. He simply couldn't. Von Glower shut his eyes once more, his grip on the paper tightening slightly.

_No, Ludwig, no, you fool. I could never hate you._

"You're still not done reading," Grace's voice reached his ears again, as cold and unforgiving as he was sure Ludwig's voice would have been if he ever told him directly half the things he had written in his diary. He opened his eyes again.

"I think it's enough," he said quietly. "I know what comes next."

"Fine, then I'll tell you something you won't find there. Do you know what his last words were? Sure you don't. But I do – I  _dreamed_  the whole thing!"

Von Glower glanced up at her, surprised. She had… dreamed of Ludwig's death? But how? Why? He looked at her a little more carefully, and he noticed something was slightly off in the contempt in her expression; he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he knew something was wrong, as if all that hatred didn't really come from her. Not completely – why should she loathe him  _that_  much after all? That she would feel contempt for him was a given, but all that anger, that  _grudge_ …

Receiving no answer, Grace spoke again almost viciously. " _Curse you to hell_ ," she said, repeating Ludwig's last words, and she felt a sense of grim satisfaction that didn't really belong to her – or did it? – as she saw the man wincing as if stabbed by each word. " _May God damn you, my love_."

Von Glower stared at her for a few more instants, then he turned his gaze away. Grace could see no sign of emotion on his face, but try as she might she just couldn't ignore the way von Glower's hands were shaking as he put the translation of Ludwig's diary on the ground. For a brief moment she almost felt sorry for him, but she forbid herself to.

"In case you didn't know, his soul will stay chained to this world as long as you live," she said quietly. "That's why he tried to help me finding a way to finish you. Unless he helped bringing you to your death, he could not rest in peace. He never will now - I was forced to  _choose_. But let me tell you something," her voice grew even harsher. "I couldn't help him out, but I won't let the same thing happen to Gabriel. I won't let this destroy him. I hope that's clear."

Von Glower gave her no reply, his gaze fixed ahead, nor she waited for one: she just turned her back to him and left the cell. He didn't even wince at the sound of the cell's door slamming shut.

* * *

"Nothing," Gabriel muttered with a sigh, closing another book about curses and putting it back on the desk. He sighed and reached to rub the back of his neck, grimacing at the stiffness. He had spent most of the night in the library looking for any information on the original curse that had turned von Glower's father in a werewolf – maybe he could find another way to break the curse by learning more about it, possibly a way that didn't involve having to kill someone – but so far he hadn't had any success: there wasn't anything more about werewolves aside form the book he had already read.

He had tried to see if he could find out more about Roma curses since the account he had read said it had been 'a gypsy' to curse von Ralick for raping a girl, but he had been rather disappointed to find out that the library was kind of lacking when the subject: the few curses and spells he had read about had nothing to do with werewolves. "I should ask Gracie to see if she can find an expert or some stuff like that," he muttered to no one in particular as he got up and stretched his arms a little, arching his back.

He felt a little guilty for their earlier argument, he thought… still, even though he knew she had done what the thought was the best for him, there was a part of him that was still rather bitter over finding out she had kept that letter hidden from him. And did she really think he would behave any differently form how he did if he got to read the letter first?

_Again, can you be sure you wouldn't have?_

Gabriel sighed and reached in his pocket to take the letter again, reading it for what was probably the hundredth time since the previous morning. No, he didn't think he would have given in and actually joined von Glower – not after seeing von Zell in that pit of bodies – but…

_But maybe you wouldn't have found the courage to carry on with the plan. You could have felt sorry for him and would have tried to find another way to break the curse so that you could spare his life. Exactly like you're doing now, really – maybe Grace was right: you shouldn't have read that letter._

Maybe not, Gabriel admitted reluctantly… but now he had, and he knew there was no way he could kill von Glower in cold blood. Not without at least trying to find another way to solve of that mess. He sighed again and put the letter back in his pocket before he glanced at his watch. Hell, it was almost noon already. He hadn't even realized how much time he had spent there… and now he was hungry, he thought as his stomach grumbled. Well, maybe he could take a break and get downstairs and take a look in the kitchen, couldn't he?

"Sure I can," he muttered to no one in particular as he got downstairs… and almost bumped on Gerde. "Oops. Sorry."

"It's alright," Gerde just said, and Gabriel noticed she had a bag with her.

"Been out shopping?"

"More or less. I bought some clothes for the… for von Glower," she said. "As you told me to. It took me a while because I had to go in another town. I think that for now the less any of us has to go down in Rittersberg, the better it is."

Gabriel frowned at the thought. "Oh, right," he muttered before holding out a hand. "Sorry you had to go through the trouble. I'll bring them to him. I think it's time we have a chat anyway."

"Of course. I hope they're the right size."

The mental image of von Glower squirming in too tight clothes made Gabriel chuckle, especially since he had never seen him wearing any kind of attire that wasn't tailored. "If they're not, sucks to be him," he shrugged as he took the bad and walked downstairs and to the dungeons. As he opened the door of the cell he wasn't too surprised to see von Glower sitting on the mattress, but he still felt rather uneasy.

"You're up," Gabriel said, trying to hide his uneasiness. "Good."

"I heard you coming. My hearing his rather keen – and so is yours now. You simply need time to grow accustomed to it," von Glower said calmly, as if they were just in the hunting lodge and Gabriel had walked in his room. His gaze fell on the bag Gabriel was holding.

"Clothes," Gabriel said, walking in after just a moment's hesitation and putting the bag near the mattress. "Should be about your size – could have given you some of my clothes before, but they wouldn't fit. This is what you get for being taller  _and_  broader."

A small smile curled von Glower's lips. "I see."

"I'll get out for a minute to let you get dressed, okay? Then we'll talk."

"Of course," von Glower said, and reached for the clothes just as Gabriel stepped outside. He could hear him breathing, so he knew he was still standing outside – his hearing was that keen – and as he quickly got dressed he wondered what was about to happen now, what their talk would lead to. Well, he thought, there was only one way to find out. "Done," he said aloud as he finished getting dressed, and Gabriel walked back in. It didn't escape von Glower how he didn't even lock the door behind him. Did he trust him enough to think he wouldn't try to escape? He certainly seemed to trust him enough to come down there alone and unarmed.

"So," Gabriel snapped him from his thought as he sat cross-legged in front of him and cleared his throat before glancing around the cell. "I'm, uh… kind of sorry I couldn't get you to the closest Ritz. All rooms were taken."

Despite the situation – despite everything – he still managed to amuse von Glower. He chuckled. "I have hardly any right to complain about the accommodation. Anyone else would have killed me. It rather surprises me that you didn't yet."

"Yeah, same here," Gabriel said honestly, then he shrugged. "I'm full of surprises. The guys in town were pretty surprised too. And kind of angry, but I bet you know that already."

Von Glower nodded grimly. He remembered all too well how eager people had been to kill him and his mother when they had narrowly escaped them after his father's capture, the shouts of triumph he had heard when he had seen them setting his home on fire thinking they were still inside. If people back then had been so eager to kill a young boy for the sins of his father, he had no doubt that the people of Rittersberg today would be twice as happy to rip him to shreds and burn his remains: he was no less of a monster then his father had been in their eyes. And why should they think otherwise? A werewolf  _he_ had created had slaughtered people, children, in broad daylight; that the killer wasn't him had to matter very little... and he knew that the family of the child von Zell had killed had to be from Rittersberg.

"I did take notice," he said, thinking back of the shouts he had heard coming from outside the dungeon in Rittersberg when he was still struggling to regain consciousness. "And they won't be patient for long, will they?"

"Well, they had better be. It's not like they're getting in here to do what they want," Gabriel replied, frowning a little as he thought back about Habermas' words.

_They'd turn against you, they'd turn against their Schattenjäger for the first time ever!_

Would they really do that? Yes, Gabriel thought so. It wasn't too much of a stretch, really: it was clear they didn't trust him the way they had trusted Wolfgang and all the previous Schattenjägers. And why should they anyway? He was a newbie, and a foreigner. He barely spoke a few words of German, never really had anyone to explain him how the whole Schattenjäger thing was supposed to work and he knew they thought he wasn't taking his role seriously at all.

_But I do take it seriously, I really do. I just… don't think I'd stay sane if I had to be dead serious all the time._

He sighed and tried to ignore such thoughts, and when he looked up again he realized that von Glower was staring at him intently. "They want me dead," he said quietly, "and so does your friend. My death would set your free from the werewolf curse you despise so much – most people wouldn't have hesitated an instant to finish me. And instead you're taking the risk of angering your best allies to keep me alive," he added, and glanced the walls of the cell. "You brought me here to protect me, didn't you?" he asked quietly.

"I, uh… kind of. I don't exactly love the killing part, so I'll try all the other options first," Gabriel shrugged. "And don't worry about the people back in Rittersberg. I convinced the mayor to give us some time by telling him that the Ritter talisman had no effect on you. It's supposed to repel dark creatures and stuff and it worked with von Zell, so it did impress him that it didn't work on you," he said, and paused. "... It  _really_  didn't hurt you, did it?"

Von Glower shook his head. "No," he said honestly, then he glanced at the talisman hanging from Gabriel's neck. "I did feel there was something peculiar about it, though."

"Uh… yeah," Gabriel suddenly felt suddenly uneasy as he remembered how he had touched the talisman when he was mostly asleep, how he had reached to brush back a lock of his hair before he left the room. At first he had dismissed it as a dream, but later… he bit his lower lip, forbidding himself to think about that any longer. It wasn't like anything had happened after all. "By the way, I… guess it was you to send it back," he said. Now that he knew about the letter, he felt kinda stupid for not wondering how could Grace get it back.

"I did, together with the letter. I figured out it had to be important to you."

Thinking back of Wolfgang's sacrifice, Gabriel nodded. "Very," he said before he finally braced himself to address the other subject matter – the letter. He cleared his throat a little uneasily. "About that letter… I didn't read it until yesterday morning," he took said letter from his pocket, and it looked so worn that von Glower could easily tell it had been read more than once since when he had sent it. "I… wasn't given it before," he added almost apologetically.

"I take it your lovely friend didn't want to take risks," von Glower stated. On one hand he felt a pang of rage at the thought that she had kept his letter hidden to Gabriel all that time, keeping him from making his choice… but on the other hand, he supposed he couldn't really blame her. She cared for him, and it was obvious that in her eyes he was nothing but a monster. After reading Ludwig's diary, how could she be blamed for wishing to spare Gabriel a similar fate?

He clenched his jaw as he thought back of the pages with the translation of Ludwig's diary she had showed him and that he now kept under the mattress to not see them.

"Yeah. I was kind of mad at her when I found out – guess I still should be – but…"

"She did what she thought would be the best for you," von Glower said quietly, though unable to shake off the sensation that there was something odd in the contempt that woman felt for him. "It's understandable."

"Yeah, probably," Gabriel smiled a little. "It's kinda like having a baby sitter around all the time to make sure I don't scrap my knee. And she makes a darn good baby sitter when she isn't hiding my mail."

"I'm sure she does," von Glower had to smile a little at the thought before he turned his gaze back to the worn letter, faintly wondering what had Gabriel thought when he had finally read it… and if he would have spared his life as he had if he didn't get to read it.

Gabriel seemed to notice he had turned his attention to the letter, for he coughed a little. "Anyway, when you say 'companionship', you mean, uh…" he glanced at the letter again, his eyes almost desperately searching for one word he remembered reading and that he hoped would help him making sense out of the letter without having to really consider the other option "…Friendship, right? Someone to hunt with and, uh, all that?" he asked, not even knowing what he meant with 'all that' nor what kind of reply he was hoping for.

Von Glower hesitated, and Gabriel knew his answer wasn't about to be the one he had been hoping for… and was that  _really_  what he wanted to hear anyway? "I… would be content with just that. It would be enough. I wouldn't ask for anything you're not willing to give, Gabriel," he said quietly, staring straight in his eyes, and Gabriel had to force himself to not turn away.

"Ah," he croaked, then he cleared his throat, feeling awfully uncomfortable and trying to not let it show too much. He glanced at the door and for a moment he was tempted to just walk away, but he knew he would have to address the subject matter sooner or later anyway. "You know, it's not that I'm not kind of flattered, but… I'm sorta, y'know… straight," he finally said, wondering if there was any other guy in the world who ever ended up talking about their sexual inclination with the creature of darkness that they were supposed to destroy. A creature of darkness he was supposed to destroy that clearly had an…  _interest_  in him.

There was a glint of something that looked oddly close to amusement in von Glower's eyes before he just nodded. "Of course, I understand," he said quietly.

"Eh. Great," Gabriel scanned his brain for something to say so that he could change subject. "So, uh… how were things with you and von Zell anyway?" he asked, only to abruptly shut his mouth as he saw von Glower wince, a pained expression twisting his feature for just an instant before recollected again.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid! What the hell made you think asking that would be a good idea?_

"We were close," von Glower was saying quietly. "He was… very different when I first met him. He was probably not an easy person to get along with, but once he let you get close…" a fond smile curled his lips for a moment, then he shook his head mournfully. "We shared the same philosophy, and I had thought I had found the perfect companion. I hoped we could truly be one, but… the Blood was too much for his mind, as you could see. Trying to Change him was one of the mistakes I regret the most."

For a moment Gabriel wondered if he regretted it even more than biting Ludwig, but he would bite off his tongue before asking anything like that. "Well, shit happens. I mean, you couldn't know that would happen," he added quickly as von Glower gave him a quizzical look. "It's not like you knew he'd go insane."

"No, I didn't know," von Glower said quietly. "But I knew there was a risk, no matter how much I hoped teaching him my philosophy beforehand would help. I thought he was ready because I  _wanted_  to believe he was. And as a result I not only destroyed him, I also caused the mindless slaughter of…" he paused and glanced up at Gabriel. "How many people, Gabriel?"

"I… don't know exactly," Gabriel replied – and even if he knew, there was no way in hell he was really going to tell him – then a sudden thought crossed his mind. "You did suspect von Zell had something to do with the killings, right?"

"I did. As much as I hated the mere thought, his violent behavior and the nature of the killings made my suspicions grow stronger. But what was I to do?" he glanced at him again, and for a moment Gabriel could see how much it had pained him witnessing von Zell's descent into madness and being unable to do anything to stop it. "He would deny when confronted. Oh, he kept giving me some hints, like saying I was a coward for resenting that kind of slaughter, but I wasn't certain he was guilty until you showed me the corpses he had dragged in the lair. I hadn't been there in quite some time," he pressed his lips together at the memory "and even then, I couldn't do anything against him: I could not hurt him without my own actions backfiring on me."

"The whole alpha and beta thing, right?" Gabriel asked. "It's the same reason why you can't hurt me."

"Exactly. This is why I used you: von Zell had to be stopped, and you were the only one who could do so. But believe me, I never wanted you to be bitten and Changed – not like this."

Gabriel sighed. "Yeah, you told me. Don't worry about that, it just happened. I'll find a way out."

Von Glower stared at him. "You know what your only way out is."

"Yeah, you already said that a hundred times too, and I already told you that I'm not killing anybody. There's got to be some other way," Gabriel said stubbornly. "I'll just… keep you here until I find out. It's safer for you, and I guess you could help me controlling myself until that moment. After that… I'll see. You're never going to Change anyone again, are you?" he asked, his eyes narrowing a little. As much as he wanted to spare his life, he knew that he would really have to finish him for everyone's sake if he had any intention to try creating yet another werewolf.

Von Glower shook his head. "No, I won't. Garr… von Zell was my last attempt. It would be useless now that I know that no human who isn't a born werewolf can keep their sanity in the Change. No one but you, but you're hardly a normal human being. You're a Ritter."

Fine, Gabriel really wasn't in the mood to talk about that for what seemed like the millionth time. "Yeah, I feel so lucky," he snorted, thinking of the mistrust he had often seen in the eyes of people in Rittersberg – it was clear he wasn't exactly what they expected when they had known there was a new Ritter. He let his gaze wander through the cell, and he suddenly felt almost claustrophobic and anxious to change subject. "Anyway, how about getting some fresh air? Can you walk?"

Von Glower seemed surprised. "Are you letting me outside?"

"Will you try to escape if I do?"

A small sigh escaped von Glower as he shook his head. "What purpose would it serve?" he asked. If he fled once more, he knew he'd be alone for the rest of his immortal life – never again he would take the risk to Change anyone – and the thought made him feel dreadfully tired. No matter how much he enjoyed the thrill of the hunt and the complete freedom that life allowed him, a life alone that was simply not worth living, not for the rest of eternity.

No, he would stay with the only man who could ever be his companion: even if he wouldn't be his, even if he could eventually kill him once he had to learn there was no other way for him to get to normal, he knew it was his only chance for friendship. It would still be better than dooming himself to continue the lonely life he had led for centuries. He would stay, and find out himself what would happen. Whether his fate would be finally finding some companionship or dying, he would welcome it.

Unaware of his musing, Gabriel nodded. "Great. There is a secret exit on the other side of the mountain. I think you, uh… better avoid getting out from the main entrance above Rittersberg. You had better not get out at all unless I'm with you, really," Gabriel glanced at him, suddenly looking extremely serious. "If you give me your word you won't try to leave, you're free to walk around the castle," he added, taking a mental note to let Grace know that before they met and she decided to gut von Glower alive. He had the distinct feeling she wouldn't like the news  _at all_ , but he could still bring up the letter she hadn't showed him to have an edge in he argument.

But first, he needed to get some air.

* * *

"And here I thought everyone spoke English by now," Franklin Mosely said to no one in particular as he finally drove out of the car rental lot with the only car he could rent – after endless efforts to explain that guy that he didn't need a damn limousine – without spending half of what would be his usual pay-check for a month. Granted, the amount of money in his pay-checks had increased considerably after the whole mess with the voodoo murders: since Knight had preferred to stay behind the scenes he had taken all the credit, which had given him one hell of a career boost.

But hey, that was the least he could get for all the trouble Knight had made him get through, right? Not only had he made him risk his life – he sometimes still has nightmares about the ceremony in that voodoo hounfour – but he had also stolen his credit card to pay himself his trips to Germany, Africa and then back to New Orleans. He had almost had a heart attack when he had received a letter from the bank letting him know that his account was in red, and what had that son of a bitch told him? 'Well, I thought you had kicked the bucket, Mostly. At least you'd have been useful,' he had said.

He could count himself lucky that he didn't have his gun with him, or else it would have been him to kick the bucket, and  _for real_. Sure, the fact a part of the money Knight had stolen from the hounfour and his career suddenly picking up had been more than enough to make up for the damage probably had helped him to calm down.

And then, of course, there was the novel. Yeah, fine, a good novel, a bestseller and all that jazz – but he had really called the detective in the story  _Mostly,_ and he had made him some kind of overweight joke. He was sure Gracie would never stop using it against him. Damn Knight! And besides, he wasn't  _that_  overweight. Fine, there had been some… early midlife weight gain together with the hair loss, especially after his rather troublesome divorce – it had been more like WW3 than just a normal divorce – but no matter what Knight said, he could  _still_  see his toes. If he bent forward a little. But he  _could_.

Mosely grunted a little at the thought and chose to ignore the fact the safety belt was pressing rather uncomfortably on his belly. He glanced down at the small map on the passenger seat – he had to draw a red circle around Rittersberg to see it better, since it was so small that it was barely visible on the map – and turned to the left, on the road that was supposed to bring him close enough to his destination. He just hoped it wouldn't take too much: he had been travelling for far longer than he would have liked, he was still hungry and that darn car didn't even have a working radio. Oh, well, he would probably only get German music anyway.

"Why am I here again?" Mosely asked aloud. Hell, that was one heck of a good question. Considering what a pain in the neck Gabriel Knight had always been to him, he should have been glad that he was out of his life for a while. Shouldn't he? Yeah, he probably should have. And instead he was worried out of his mind.

Fine, Knight was a pain in the neck most times, but he had been a little –  _a little_  – sorry when he had moved in Germany about a year before… with his own money, this time. He had been used to have him around since when they were little more than kids, and he had found out that life could be surprisingly boring without that loafer around. Well, not  _really_  boring since life is hardly boring when you're in the police, but still… not quite the same. But he still had no reason to worry since he would get a letter or a postcard from time to time, or else Grace would give him some news about him when she wasn't busy mocking him for Detective Mostly's role in Gabriel's novel.

He had been a little surprised when he had found the bookshop closed. At first he had thought Grace was taking a day off, but then it had been a week and then two weeks with the shop still closed and no news at all from either Grace or Gabriel. When it had been Gabriel's  _grandmother_  to call him worriedly to ask him if he had any news, he had started to wonder what the heck was going on. He had sent a few men to gather some information, and it had turned out that Grace Nakimura had bought a one-way ticket for Germany the day before he had found the shop closed.

Despite what Knight thought of his cop instinct Mosely  _did_  have some, and it had saved his ass more than once already. He had no real trouble admitting that he probably wasn't anywhere near Sherlock Holmes as a detective and that he hadn't been invested with some divine mission with a fancy title such as 'Shadow Hunter' – even though Gabriel claimed the title of 'Beignet Hunter' would suit him just fine – but what the hell, he could still tell when something serious was up. If Grace had decided to just leave for Germany without telling anyone there had to be a reason, and it troubled him not knowing what it could be.

The same evening he had tried to dig up the phone number Gabriel had given him and, after finding it under some old pizza box that had been beneath his desk hell knew how long, he had tried to call him. Still, it hadn't been him to answer; it had been a woman that definitely wasn't Grace, but who could thankfully speak English. Not that he had learned that much from her, aside from the fact that something had to be wrong: she had sounded terribly nervous when he had asked to speak with Gabriel, and she had told him that he wasn't home and nor was Grace, giving very vague answers when he had asked where they were.

Mosely hadn't insisted – what could he do? – and he had hung the phone thinking that hey, maybe Gabriel was just fine after all, and he had just interrupted something. He had always been lucky with women, the cheeky bastard.

Not that it had stopped him from trying, of course. He had called again a few days later, and the few news he could get were even less reassuring: according to the woman, whose name was apparently Gerde, Gabriel was sick and couldn't speak right now. She had sounded even more nervous than she had been last time, and she had hung the phone before he could even ask if Grace was there. From that moment on, any time he tried his call would never reach anyone: the only reply he got was from a registered voice that said something in German… probably something about the number being no longer active.

Mosely just hoped Gabriel had simply forgotten to pay the phone bill, as usual, but there was a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't ignore. Something was wrong, he just  _knew_  it. For a moment he had considered getting in touch with the police in Munich and ask them to check, but he had eventually decided against it: for all he knew Gabriel was busy with some new case, and the police would only mess up things in that case, possibly getting him in trouble. No, there was only one thing he could do at that point: get there himself to make sure Knight hadn't gotten involved with anything too big for him.

He had to wait a little before he could take a leave, but nobody had dared to deny him all the time of leave he wanted: he had never taken a vacation in years after all, he was still kind of a hero in New Orleans and not much was going on these days anyway. He had been told to make the best out of his break and have fun, and a few weeks later he was finally on a plane for Munich.

And  _now_  he was one a rental car that had definitely seen better days sometime in the sixties while trying to not get lost on his way to Rittersberg. "Damn you, Knight, you get me in trouble even doing nothing and from another continent," Mosely complained aloud, hoping against his own instinct that everything was just fine and that the son of a bitch had made him worry for nothing.


	5. Complications

"Hey, you okay?"

Gabriel glanced at von Glower a little worriedly as he slipped slightly on the stone stairs of the secret passage and had to lean against the wall to not fall. Maybe it was too soon to let him outside, he mused – fast regeneration or not, the wound had just healed… and he had lost a lot of blood through it. Gabriel hadn't thought there could be drawbacks like blood loss – what the hell had he been thinking?

Much to his relief, von Glower shook his head. "I'm fine. My head only spun for a moment," he said before walking down the last few steps.

"Are you sure?" Gabriel asked as they stepped outside. "Maybe you should eat something – I'll ask Gerde to make you some breakfast, alright? She's one hell of a good cook."

"I know she is," von Glower said. "She already brought me some breakfast earlier this morning. Delicious, actually. I'm not hungry now, I'm simply feeling weak. It will pass soon."

Von Glower drew in a deep breath as Gabriel helped him to sit on the grass – fresh morning air on his face and the damp grass beneath him made him feel immensely better. He shut his eyes for a few moments and inhaled deeply once more before he glanced down the side of the cliff and then to the profile of Alps ahead. "The view is wonderful."

"Well, the nice view makes up for the trouble. Maybe. For a tenth of it."

Von Glower turned to look at Gabriel. He was sitting a few feet from him, staring ahead and probably not even aware of the fact his hand was pulling up whole patches of grass. "Your legacy is more difficult to carry than you would have expected," he said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Yep. Not that I expected it to be all sunshine and roses, mind you – my first case in New Orleans… it had its shitty moments," he said. A pained expression crossed his features so quickly that anyone but von Glower would have missed it. "Two people  _killed_  themselves because of some shit other people did, and I couldn't stop either of them."

Von Glower was suddenly reminded of something that woman, Gerde, had told him while taking care of his wound. "Was one of them the previous Shattenjäger?"

"Yeah. It was to retrieve this." Gabriel's hand reached to grasp the talisman around his neck, then he frowned a little. "By the way, are you sure you don't have any idea why it doesn't hurt you? Because when I was still starting to deal with the Change, I… well…"

"Couldn't touch it?" von Glower suggested quietly, watching him intently.

"Yeah. It hurt like a bitch any time I tried to touch it," Gabriel scowled at the memory – more than the pain, it was that horrible sense of rejection that drove him crazy. "But when I took it from Grace yesterday morning, just to see what happened… it didn't hurt anymore. I can even wear it. Why couldn't I before? Why did it hurt von Zell?"

Von Glower seemed thoughtful. "You're asking me something that goes beyond my knowledge. I only have a guess."

"And it is…?"

"The talisman hurt von Zell because he had turned into something different from a normal, healthy beast. There was nothing  _natural_  in the madness and the malice that was behind his actions. He had truly turned into something dark, and could not stand the light. He repelled it, didn't let it in, and he was repelled in return."

Gabriel was suddenly reminded of something von Glower had written in his letter to him. "Is this what you meant when you said that one can't shut out the light, but must let it in and let it dim…"

"… To adjust to the relative brightness inside," von Glower finished with a smile that could have been that of a teacher pleased with his pupil. "Yes, that's exactly what I meant. You have to understand that I do not think of myself as something dark and inherently wrong. What I am, what I become when I cease being a man, is a beast – something not different from any other predator in nature. Would you think that a wolf, or a lion, or a shark are inherently evil? They do nothing but what nature made them for."

"Well… no, I wouldn't," Gabriel admitted.

"That's exactly why I refuse to think of myself as a creature of darkness because of the gift, the curse if you will, that was cast upon me the moment I was conceived. If I have to be completely honest, Gabriel, as far as human morals go I think of myself as a better person than many others I've met."

There was a moment of silence as Gabriel thought back of Grossberg, of Dorn, of von Zell, of Dr. John back in New Orleans, of Tetelo. All of them had done something that one could deem as immoral for several reasons – for profit, for power, for insanity, for revenge. Von Glower, as far as he knew, hadn't. Not in many years at least, not since when his ambition had costed Ludwig his sanity and had hurt him in return. No, von Glower was not like any of them. "You have point," he finally said quietly, "but this doesn't explain why it hurt me before, and now it doesn't."

"That's where my guess is a rather daring one, I'm afraid," was the reply. "I can only imagine that since you were fighting the Blood, since you refused it and viewed it as something dark and inherently wrong… you somehow  _made_  it something dark and wrong. You unconsciously rejected the light, like von Zell did, because you deemed yourself unworthy in the first place. But now," he gestured to the talisman hanging from Gabriel's neck, "now you have come to realize something – that the Gift is not inherently wrong. You're coming to terms with it, adjusting to it, and by doing this you've also adjusted to the light."

It did seem to make sense, Gabriel had to admit that, but… "I never said I've accepted it," he stated, a little defensively this time.

A small smile curled von Glower's lips and disappeared so quickly that for a moment Gabriel thought he had imagined it. "That's not quite what I said you did. I've simply stated that you've come to terms with the fact the Blood doesn't make you a creature of darkness by default. Am I wrong?" he asked, turning to stare in Gabriel's eyes.

He held his gaze only for a few moments before turning his eyes back to the talisman. "Guess not."

There was a brief silence before von Glower spoke again. "And so, the previous Schattenjäger retrieved it, didn't he? I did know that it was lost somehow long before I was born by one of your ancestors. It's a pity that he had to die because of someone else's weakness."

Gabriel sighed. "Yeah, tell me about it. He was the only one who could help me understanding something of this whole Schattenjäger thing, and he had to die like that. I should have known what he was planning to do, but I fell for the trick and just left him alone when I went to fetch some mummy's heart. He carved out his own heart so I could get this," Gabriel shut his eyes at the memory of Wolfgang's body in a pool of blood, his chest ripped apart, his heart still beating weakly on the stone altar.

For a moment von Glower wished he could have met that man; what he had done took a will of iron, and someone willing to go that far for someone else's sake was a man to be saluted. "If he was that determined to carry on his purpose, there was nothing you could have done to stop him," he said instead. "And he wouldn't have done what he did if he didn't think you would have made a good Shattenjäger, don't you think?"

Gabriel frowned in thought for a moment, then he shrugged. "One for you, I guess. When did we trade roles?"

A small chuckle escaped von Glower. "You should be more confident when it comes to your skills."

"Hey, I am. It just depends on the skills – if it's my skills with women we're talking about, then I'm as confident as one can get. Shadow-hunting skills? Not so much. I'm kind of a newbie, and those folks in town don't really seem to think I'm cut out for this."

"But you are," von Glower said quietly. "You're born to be a hunter. They'll see."

"If you say so. So far they're all disappointed that I didn't kill you. Hell, even  _you_  seem disappointed that I didn't," he sighed. "I kind of wonder what I hoped to accomplish by accepting the case. Seems like they wouldn't be happy with anything anyway. They'll never stop testing me."

"You found out who the responsible of the murders was, and you…" von Glower paused. "... You stopped him. No more innocent people will be slaughtered like that."

Gabriel blinked, as if just reminded of that detail. "Fine, that's a good point. I almost forgot it. Hey, maybe I don't suck that badly after all," he muttered with something close to a laugh, and von Glower seemed rather amused. They stayed silent for a while, a peaceful silence that made Gabriel feel more relaxed than he had been in weeks rather than uneasy.

"Friedrich?" Gabriel finally called out after a while, as if a thought had suddenly occurred to him.

"Yes?" von Glower asked, just realizing that it was the first time since the night he had been bitten that he called him by his name. It felt oddly comforting for some reason.

"Why did you come back to Bavaria?" Gabriel finally asked. "Wouldn't it be dangerous? There was a reason you escaped after all – you would have been killed. Why did you take the risk?"

"There wasn't nearly as much risk as you might think," von Glower said, a somewhat thoughtful frown on his face. "All I had to do was changing my name. Years had passed since when my mother and I escaped to South America. Decades, actually – I had left as a young boy, and I was returning as a grown man. Who could recognize me anymore? Nobody."

"But what if the Beast…?"

"I had long since learned to deal with the Beast, to always retain some level of consciousness even in the Change. You dealt with it more quickly than I did," von Glower said, and gave him a somewhat proud look. "You didn't lose your human mind that night at the Opera. While I already knew how special you are, I was honestly surprised – it took me years to learn to control myself that way. The first time I turned into a wolf…" he paused, and bit his lower lip. "It was unexpected. I had been sick and very much in pain for several weeks, but nobody could tell what the cause could be. Not until the next full moon. In retrospect I think my mother might have guessed, for she had to at know what my father was… but I supposed she hoped she was wrong until the last moment."

Gabriel thought back of the letter, of how von Glower had told him that he had Changed the first time when he was just twelve, not even knowing what was happening to him. The thought chilled him to the bones: the Change had been painful and hard to deal with for him, a grown man who knew what was going on. He didn't even want to imagine how terrified von Glower had been. "And did you, uh…?"

Von Glower stared ahead for a few moments, as if looking at something Gabriel could not see. "Hadn't it been for a faithful servant's quick acting, I could have spilled the blood of my own mother."

Gabriel didn't even want to think how horrible it would have been for the young boy von Glower had been turning back to normal to realize he had killed his mother. "But it didn't happen, right?"

"No." There was relief in von Glower's voice now. "No such thing happened. Only once I bit a man who was trying to help me, an army officer back in Brazil."

Gabriel could recall the book about werewolves mentioning a lycanthrope in Brazil, a high rank army officer. "And he was turned into a werewolf himself, wasn't he?"

"Yes. I regret so very much what happened, but I could not stop myself. I was unable retain any control over the Beast back then – I was too young and it just took over. But that man never told anyone my secret, nor he tried to kill me to free himself. He was discovered and killed years later, and he still said nothing about me," von Glower added, and sighed. "I owe him my life. After that accident we became more careful, and nothing like that happened again. Our protector was powerful, and my curse was kept a secret to almost anyone but a few trusted ones. I could continue my education as if nothing was wrong – I would only be locked up safely when about to change. It wasn't pleasant being trapped while every fiber of my being longed to roam free, but it lasted only until the moment I could control myself enough. It would have been too dangerous letting me out before then."

"Well, your mother sure did her best to help you out," Gabriel said, and for a brief, irrational instant he wished his own mother were still alive, even thought she probably would have no idea of how to help him out with that whole Schattenjäger mess.

"She did." A small, fond smile was on von Glower's face again before he turned to glance down the side of the cliff. "As for the reason why I returned, after she died… you have understand that the years I spent in South America felt like an exile to me," he said quietly. "A long, unfair exile. Because of my father's actions I could no longer return in Bavaria, not before years had passed and not with my own name: I could have been killed if I did. There was an estate, wealth, and a title that were rightfully mine – and it all was denied to me. My  _home_  was denied to me. Tell me, Gabriel," he turned to give him a glance that seemed to stare through his soul, "why did you come here in Rittersberg? Didn't you feel at home in New Orleans?"

"Sure I did. It was home – it  _is_. Gotta love the Big Easy. I just…" Gabriel paused. "I didn't have that much of a choice since I'm the new Shattenjäger, y'know. I needed a break after the whole mess with voodoo, after Malia died. I needed time to stay alone here, think and get a general idea of what I had gotten myself into. And before I knew it, a year passed."

"Malia?"

Was it jealousy that for a moment, he had heard in von Glower's voice? If not, it was still something close… and Gabriel wasn't sure he wanted to talk about Malia with him, or with anyone. Her memory still burned him, as much as the scars Tetelo had given him through her still did. "Long story. What do I have to do with the reason why you returned here anyway?"

Thankfully, von Glower didn't insist and just went back to the previous subject. "I'm sure you're now here not only because you have a duty to attend to or because you needed to break away from whatever was bothering you back in the States, but also because you felt the call of your ancestral home. And you came here," he gestured to the side of the cliff beneath them, to the wonderful view they could see from up there. "A fortunate choice, I might add. Instinctively, you knew this is your home and longed to return. In my youth I longed so desperately to come back home, Gabriel. When I finally returned under a fake name after my mother's death, it still wasn't enough. I longed for the land and the title I had been denied after my father's death. I longed for what should have been mine already by birthright."

"So, when you were offered what you wanted if you got close to Ludwig and gave Bismarck an excuse to declare him insane, you accepted," Gabriel stated.

"Yes."

"But you grew to care for him."

"Oh, yes," a smile appeared on von Glower's face. "I was struck by him, by his passion, his fire, his nobility. It was true nobility he held, not the kind you get by birthright. He was a kindred spirit. Before I knew it, I realized that I…" he made a vague gesture, and Gabriel knew exactly what he meant – he loved him. For some reason, knowing that didn't make him feel uncomfortable in the slightest. Fine, there was an odd gnawing feeling at the pit of his stomach, but…

"And did he…?"

"He did," von Glower said. The smile was back on his face. "It was more than I could have hoped for. I was happy, for a time."

"Then what changed?"

The fond smile disappeared from von Glower's face so quickly that Gabriel almost regretted asking. "He began having second thoughts, as you know, about the treaty. He became convinced that Bavaria should wear her own crown again, and none of my argument would convince him anymore. Bismarck wouldn't have it, wouldn't let him destroy his life's work. If I couldn't think of a way to either convince him or take him out of the picture, they would resort to other ways. They would have him killed. I couldn't allow that. So, when I convinced him to come with me on a trip... It was my last attempt at convincing him. Failing to do as much, I would bite him. If I passed the curse on to him, he wouldn't be able to rule. That's what I thought. I thought we could simply leave it all behind together. I had a fortune by then, lands and a title Bismarck granted me when I first convinced him to sign the treaty. We could have lived safe and well."

"But you could not convince him," Gabriel said quietly, "and you bit him."

Von Glower shut is eyes, a pained grimace on his face. "I did. He was in danger. He could be assassinated at any time, and I... I had been wanting to make him my companion for a long time already. I was afraid that if I didn't act now I'd lose him forever. But I lost him regardless. I condemned him to a far worse fate than death. You should know what happened after I bit him."

Yes, Gabriel knew it all too well, and he honestly couldn't think of anything he could say about that. Whether he meant to or not, von Glower had still turned Ludwig's life into a living hell, giving his enemies the chance to depose him, and he had eventually killed himself out of despair… not without leaving behind a perfectly designed trap that was supposed to result with von Glower's death and give his soul peace. And now that couldn't happen anymore, Gabriel realized, suddenly feeling as if someone had punched him in the stomach. The only way Ludwig's soul could be free was that he could somehow have a hand in von Gower's death: that was why he had helped Grace and him to put the pieces together to set up the trap.

Had von Glower been killed the night of the Opera, his death would have set his soul free… but Grace hadn't carried on with the plan because Gabriel wouldn't be free from the curse if she finished him there. She had denied Ludwig's soul his much-longed rest to give him a chance to break the curse upon himself, and now his very being revolted at the thought of killing von Glower himself. No wonder she was mad at him, he thought uncomfortably. And still, he simply couldn't picture himself killing the man who was now sitting a few feet from him. He just couldn't.

_There must be another way to break the curse. Another way._

"You know what? I bet there is another way to break the curse," Gabriel finally said. "At least the one on Ludwig. I have all the time to work around this somehow, but he's been stuck for more than a century and that's got to suck. So hey, guess my next job will be getting him out of… whatever limbo thing he's into. Are you going to help me out?" Gabriel asked, and he couldn't hold back a smirk at the look of surprise and  _hope_  on von Glower's face before he frowned again.

"But there isn't any other way. One can only break the curse-" he trailed off as Gabriel lifted his hand to stop him.

"Look, I don't really want to hear that for the millionth time, okay?" he said. "And in any case, that way isn't gonna work anymore for Ludwig. So we'll think of something else, alright? It won't hurt to try anyway."

"I guess not," von Glower said quietly. He barely dared to let himself hope there could really be a way to release Ludwig's spirit from its imprisonment, the disappointment would be too great if there weren't any… but Gabriel managed to sound so sure of himself that he really couldn't help but hope they really could succeed.

* * *

"Gerde! Have you seen Gabriel?"

"Huh?" Gerde raised her gaze from the accounts she was checking to see Grace walking up to her, her face almost paler than the previous morning, and she suddenly felt scared as well. She tried to keep calm and nodded towards the flight of stairs that led down to the dungeons. "He went to bring some clothes to… to the werewolf," she said. "Why? Did something happen?"

"What happened is that he's not down there – and neither is von Glower," Grace's voice began to rise, her worry clearly getting the best of her. Gerde felt a little upset at the news herself.

"They can't have disappeared," she heard herself muttering, hastily getting up from the chair. What could have happened? Where were they? Could it be that the werewolf had somehow convinced Gabriel to join him after all, maybe taken him against his will? No, it couldn't be…!

"Well, why don't you check yourself?" Grace groaned and held her aching head in her hands. "I  _knew_  I should have kept an eye on him!"

"But even if he got out of the cell or Gabriel let him, he must be still in the dungeons. There is no way to get out of there without walking right through this room, unless-" she trailed off, her eyes widening, then her gaze met Grace's and they spoke in perfect unison.

"The secret passage!"

"Yeah, these secret passages come in a handy when you want to avoid a third degree, y'know," Gabriel's voice reached their ears, neither of them missing the slight amusement. Both Grace and Gerde turned to see him walking back in the room, and Grace narrowed her eyes when she saw von Glower walking behind him.

"What is he doing out of his cell?" she snapped, glaring at Gabriel – if she looked at von Glower, she wasn't sure she could handle her anger and frustration, not with the dream and Ludwig's despair still fresh in her mind. "What if-"

"He was with me all the time," Gabriel said before she could finish her sentence. "And he's not going anywhere, alright? It's safer for him to stay here. It's safer for everyone, really."

" _Safer_?" Grace repeated, looking at him as if he were completely crazy. "Gabriel, you're letting a  _werewolf_  walk around the place!"

"Hey, I'm one too! That's racism, Gracie," Gabriel tried to joke, but the smile vanished from his face as it was clear he had failed to amused her. He held up his hands. "He's… not going to do anything, okay? He means no harm. Right?" he glanced back at von Glower, who nodded.

"Of course not," he said quietly.

Grace finally turned to stare at him before she gave a brief, cold laugh. "Sure, you never  _mean_  to cause any trouble – you just  _are_  trouble, aren't you?" she asked sarcastically, and Gabriel could have sworn he had heard von Glower's breathing hitching for a moment.

"Grace, look…"

"You didn't  _mean_  any harm to Ludwig either, did you? But look where you got him!" she went on, completely ignoring him, and Gabriel finally took a step forward.

"Grace,  _please_ ," he said, reaching to hold her wrist gently but firmly. "That's not helping anyone."

"So what? I surely don't want to help him. And as for you, I can't do anything but trying to get in that thick head of yours that you should  _know_  what's the only way to help yourself at this point," she snapped, and pulled her wrist free from his grasp.

Gabriel shook his head. "It may not be the only way. Just… let me try find another way, alright? It would be great if I could get back to normal without having to kill anyone. I'm only asking for more time. And until that moment, he's the only one who can show me how to deal with this whole... thing. Looks like he's the world's number one expert on the subject," he tried to smile a little, and he saw Grace's features softening a little as she realized that he was still planning to get back to normal.

She finally sighed. "Fine," she said "if you want to have him running around,  _fine_  – it's your castle. But you can't expect me to like it."

"I don't. I just need to know if I can count on you to get out of this mess."

Grace glanced up at him, and she had to smile as she realized he looked a lot like an anxious kid asking for help dealing with math homework. "Of course you can count on me," she finally said, but she did give another wary glance to von Glower before she spoke softly, maybe not knowing his keen hearing allowed him to hear anything she said. "But be careful around him. Ludwig trusted him, and it was a mistake."

Somehow, this time Gabriel could almost  _sense_  the sharp stab of pain that von Glower had felt at her words. When he spoke again, it was as much to him as to Grace. "I know about Ludwig, Gracie. And I'm sorry you had to give up on helping him out – but we'll find a way to do that anyway, alright? I promise we will."

She looked uncertain, but it was clear she wanted to hope there could actually be a way… and Gabriel was starting to fervently hope so himself. "Alright," Grace finally sighed, still avoiding to look in von Glower's general direction. "Is there any plan yet?"

"I was thinking we should look for… some expert in curses or something," Gabriel said "it was a gypsy curse to start everything, so I guess that maybe there could be a way to reverse it. Or something."

Well, Grace mused, it wasn't much to work with… but she had worked with less after all. "Fine. I'll see what I can find," she turned to Gerde, who had followed the whole scene in silence. "The phone is working again, right?"

"Yes," Gerde said with a nod. "Everything was fixed just before you went to Munich, thankfully. I had forgotten to pay the last phone bill," she said apologetically at Gabriel's confused expression. "With all the things that happened, I completely forgot about it until they cut the line."

"Don't worry, it's alright," Gabriel said with a shrug, taking a mental note to call his grandmother soon – he had written to her, but it wasn't the same thing. "Do your worst, Gracie."

She rolled her eyes, slapping his arm aside lightly before she went upstairs and in the library, still avoiding to look at von Glower – who, on the other hand, hadn't spoken a word all the time. Gabriel turned to him as Grace went upstairs.

"I'm sorry about that, but she's a little… you know…"

"It's understandable," von Glower said quietly. "I would probably think the same if I were in her place."

"Uh… right," Gabriel shifted a little uncomfortably as he was reminded that Grace wasn't exactly wrong on everything – but he felt so at ease with von Glower that he almost forgot what he really was and what his intentions concerning him had been. He just hoped he had changed his mind on the whole companionship thing, he thought. He cleared his throat. "Anyway, I'm sure she'll find something. She always does. Maybe you should, uh… try to phone your butler, or someone? Just to let him know you're alive and make up some excuse to stay away from home for a while. It would be troublesome if they thought you disappeared or something and began looking for you."

Von Glower nodded. "Good point," he admitted. "But I have time to call Gunter. It wouldn't be the first time I leave for a few days without warning, and he's used to it. He certainly won't be worried before another few days have passed."

"Oh. Great," Gabriel tried to not speculate on what von Glower would do when leaving home without warning and glanced at Gerde. "Er… do we have any guest rooms left?" he asked. There were a bunch of unused rooms in that place, and he couldn't remember half of them.

"A couple of them, yes. I'll set up one immediately," she said, getting up.

"That would be great, thanks."

"Gabriel, there is no need to-" von Glower began, but Gabriel lifted his hand to cut him off as Gerde went upstairs as well.

"Hey, I'm not keeping you in that cell if you're not going to try escaping or something, okay? What kind of sucky host would I be?" He grinned. "Besides, that cell doesn't even have a bathroom, and I think you kinda need a shower. No offence."

Von Glower chuckled. "None taken," he said, and he was about to add something else when someone knocked. They both turned to stare at the door, and Gabriel frowned a little – he wasn't expecting anyone. Could it be some of the townspeople wanting to know what had he decided to do with the werewolf?

"I'll go to see who it is. You probably get back in your, uh… cell. Just until we're alone again, okay?"

Von Glower nodded and quickly went downstairs as someone knocked the door with some more strength. Gabriel took a deep breath and went to open the door, hoping it wasn't more trouble.

Considering that he was almost expecting to find a bunch of people with torches and pitchfork – always more dramatic than guns, even those days – once he opened the door, Gabriel felt rather relieved to see only one person standing in front of him, a young woman who was apparently not armed.

She could be in her early to mid twenties, but something in her expression made her look slightly older. Had anyone asked him to describe her, Gabriel would have probably summed it up with one word: plain. Not really tall, grey eyes, hair of a dirty blond cut short with no aesthetic pretence, broad shoulders and thick body with none of the curves he liked in a woman – thinking about it, Gabriel could have also described her as rather masculine. Overall, she was not someone he'd turn to take a second look at.

On the other hand, she definitely  _was_  taking a good look at him… and it wasn't the kind of look he very much enjoyed getting from women: for a moment she looked like she had just seen a ghost, then she had frowned, her eyes narrowing as she stared at him.

"Can I help you?" he finally asked since she didn't seem up to speak first.

She nodded slightly. "I'm looking for Gabriel Knight," she said in English, though with a thick German accent.

"It's me," he replied. "What is it?"

Her eyes narrowed even more as she looked at him with renewed attention, and Gabriel suddenly felt even more uncomfortable. There was something odd in the glance she was giving him – it was not downright hostile, but it was… suspicious to say the least. "I think you might," she said. "My name is Elsa Schröder. I need to talk with you about someone's disappearance."

"Oh," Gabriel almost groaned – great, last thing he needed was yet another case so soon after the previous one was over… and it wasn't even actually over. Still, he couldn't just refuse to help without even listening what that was about. "What disappearance?"

There was an odd tenseness in her back now, her expression even more suspicious. "You should know – you were  _there_. Or do you happen to get involved in disappearances often?"

"I, uh… have a rather eventful life?" he said, trying to use his most charming smile, but if it had any effect it was quite the opposite of what he had hoped.

"I see. Then let me be clearer," her voice still wasn't exactly hostile, but now it went pretty close. "Does Garr von Zell's name say anything to you?"

Oh, crap. Gabriel's smile vanished in a blink of an eye. "I already told the police everything I know."

"Then it wouldn't be a problem to say it all to me directly, would it?" she retorted. Gabriel noticed that she had unconsciously braced herself as if expecting someone would try to physically remove her from the door: her shoulders were tense, her arms folded on her chest, her feet firmly planted on the ground… and the look of fierce determination in her eyes was hard to miss. Great, trying to get rid of her was going to be a pain.

"Is there any reason why I should?" he finally asked, folding his arms as well. "If you're in the police, it would be great to see a badge or something."

Fine, now her gaze was definitely hostile – she looked like she would be glad to slam his face against the wall. Still, her voice was controlled… so controlled that it seemed impersonal and almost familiar somehow. "I'm not with the police. If I were, I'd be just looking for a corpse in the woods where he disappeared. Looks like they like keeping themselves busy like that."

"Ah. So why are you here?"

She hesitated for a moment, as if debating to herself what she should tell him, and when she spoke again she sounded like she wasn't telling him everything. "I don't think he just got lost. My uncle knew those woods like the back of his hand."

… Wait.

"Your uncle?" Gabriel repeated, now fervently wishing he hadn't opened the door and pretended he wasn't home. Now he could tell what was there that felt familiar in her forced calm: it was the way von Zell behaved around him when trying to not snap. And then there were the eyes: von Zell's had been ice and hers were steel, but now he could tell that the shape was the same… and that both glares made him feel damn uncomfortable.

"I believe that's what I said. In case you didn't notice, he happened to have relatives," she said, and it somehow struck Gabriel how she had chosen an aseptic word such as 'relatives' over 'family'.

"Yeah, I know. I read it on the news," he said, thinking back of the woman whose picture she had seen on a newspaper reporting an interview concerning the disappearance of the last von Zell and its effects on the family banking business – one hell of a beautiful woman, really. "Some interview to his sister, maybe?"

"Yes, my mother," an odd grimace crossed her features for a moment. A part of Gabriel's mind muttered that if she was really that woman's daughter she had definitely gotten the short end of the stick when it came to genes: her mother was smokin' hot in his not-so-humble opinion, and von Zell himself had been a handsome devil – on the contrary, she was a rather unremarkable specimen of a human being. "I know she didn't bother to speak to you directly, though."

"I told everything to the police. There isn't much more to add."

"I'd still appreciate it if you could reply to a few questions. Over an icy beer, if possible – it took me hours to get here from Munich since finding this hole of a place is anything but easy, and weather is too hot for my liking. I'm staying at the  _gasthof_  down in Rittersberg – I'll wait there for you to show up," she paused for a moment before looking straight in his eyes, and in that moment Gabriel knew without a shadow of doubt that she had to be really related to von Zell somehow. He could only remember getting such icy glares only from that man until that moment. "And you better show up," she added quietly. Gabriel didn't miss the threat beneath her calm words.

_You'll regret it if you don't._

"Sure," he just said. Better not make her angry for now, not before he discussed about it with Grace. She was the one always ready to give sensible advice after all, and she always got it right… well, almost.

"From what I heard, his family is powerful and influent. They won't rest until at least the body is found, and then they'll demand for the responsible to pay," Grace had said worriedly when Gabriel had explained everything that had happened in the woods that night and what had truly happened to von Zell… but she had been wrong. Oh, of course a lot of attention had been on the case, but everyone involved in the investigating seemed inclined to think that he had a hunting accident, a wolf attack – how ironical, Gabriel had thought – or that he got lost in the woods.

He had expected to be thoroughly questioned, but he had only been asked a few questions instead… and he guessed the same had been done to the other members of the hunt club: if any of them had suspected Gabriel could have had anything to do with it, they had kept their mouth shut. Not that it would surprise him: none of them seemed to like von Zell, and a lot of them had something to hide that could have resurfaced should the investigations on his disappearance actually contemplate the possibility of a murder.

It looked like von Glower – thinking about him back while fighting the sickness that came with the change hadn't been exactly pleasant – had hidden von Zell's body well…or destroyed it. Either way, it was a good thing for him: if it were found, they certainly wouldn't miss the gunshot that went through his heart. As time passed, the body wasn't found and the police was more and more convinced he had died in some accident, Gabriel had simply forgotten about the stir that his disappearance had caused: after all, he was also busy setting up the Opera. He had hoped that for once trouble had just missed him… but of course it was just a delay instead.

Just his luck, he thought as he shut the door – Elsa Schröder had already turned her back to him and was walking down to Rittersberg without saying another word – and went upstairs to the library.

Once again, he needed Gracie to help him out.


	6. Seeking Advice

"Huston, we have a problem."

"Yes, I know," Grace muttered as she finished writing down the phone number and some information she had gotten from the Munich university about one Hans von Kiefer, who was supposedly an expert on Roma folklore and history – she guessed it was a start. "You lost your mind and we have a werewolf loose in the castle. If  _that_  isn't a problem, I don't know what is."

Gabriel rolled his eyes, but he did offer her a sheepish grin, not really wanting to get into another argument. After all she had accepted to help him out even though she didn't really seem to agree with his plan – could it even be called a plan? – and he guessed it was enough for now. "Fine, we've got  _another_  problem."

"Did he try to eat Gerde?"

"Grace!"

She sighed, finally putting down her notes and turning to glance at him. "Fine. What it is about?"

"Remember when we said we had no reason to worry about the investigations about von Zell's… disappearance and stuff because everyone thought there had been some accident or whatever?"

"Yes?"

"Scratch that. Turns out there is some relative who didn't buy that crap, and she wants to speak with me. And somehow, I get the feeling we're not going to be best friends."

Grace gave an odd smirk. "Why not? If you can become best buddies with a were-"

"Gracie,  _come on_!"

She held up her hands. "Fine, fine. How about telling me exactly what she told you to get you this worried?"

"Well," Gabriel frowned a little. "Not too much, really – she just said that she doesn't think it was an accident, and that she wants to ask me a few questions about that. But it was how she behaved that I don't like. It was like…" he paused. "Like she suspected something. A bit like von Zell – he didn't trust me since the beginning. I don't know why, but I think she trusts me even less."

Grace frowned a little. "That could be troublesome. Do you think she might know what really happened?"

Gabriel shook his head. "No. Looks like she has suspicions, but I don't think she  _knows_  anything. I have a gut feeling that if she did, she wouldn't have even spoken to me. She would have lunged for my throat."

"Are you sure you're not working a little too much with your imagination?"

"You haven't seen the way she kept staring at me, Gracie."

"Ah," Grace pressed her lips together, her fingers nervously playing with her pen for a few moments before she spoke again. "How closely are they related?"

"Pretty closely. She's his niece."

"And she really wants to find out more while the rest of the family seems to have settled for the accident theory?"

"Looks like it. From how she spoke of the rest of the family, I don't think she gets along with them very much."

"But she cares enough about von Zell to go through the trouble of coming in Rittersberg and asking you personally to find out what happened."

"Looks like it."

"Gabriel," Grace spoke slowly, her elbows resting on the desk. "Do you think there might be a chance that von Zell turned her into a werewolf as well?"

Hell, Gabriel hadn't even thought about it. He frowned in thought. "I don't know," he finally admitted. "Could be, I guess, but… I don't think he would have turned anyone into a werewolf. He thought of it as some kind of gift for only few people."

"He turned  _you_  into a werewolf."

"Just because he didn't get the time to  _kill_  me."

"Oh. Right," Grace shuddered a little at the thought of how close von Zell had actually been to kill him before she went on. "So, for now let's say she's  _not_  a werewolf – she could still be troublesome if she's really determined to find out what happened. Any plan yet?"

Gabriel ran a hand through his hair. "Well, she told me she'd wait for me in the  _gasthof_  down in Rittersberg to talk, so I think I'll go and repeat the same bullshit I already told the police all over again. If she had any, uh, weird intentions, she wouldn't have chosen a place with other people in it," he frowned a little as she remembered the suspicious glance she had given him, how it reminded him of the wariness that had been in von Zell's gaze since the first time they had met. "You know what, Grace? I think she feels threatened by me somehow."

"Given that she didn't know what von Zell had turned into, if she thinks you might have something to do with his disappearance it's not a surprise that she thinks you could be dangerous," Grace said reasonably. "What if she knows something more than the police does?"

He shrugged. "In that case I'll only cling to the official version until I can get back here and we can come up with something. But I hope she doesn't – I think that all she has is a gut feeling. I don't think von Zell would have been stupid enough to leave any… evidence of what he really was around."

"But he had lost his mind. He was completely insane. He could have grown careless."

Gabriel shook his head. "No," he said. Von Zell  _had_  been insane, but in a lucid way, at least as a human. "Crazy or not, he came up with one hell of a plan to make sure someone else would be blamed for the kills. He thought of everything – how to get the zoo wolves, how to dispose of them, how to get Klingmann to keep his mouth shut. And then he killed Grossberg when he knew he was a threat, all while keeping his life going normally on the façade, anger issues aside. Does he sound like a guy who'd be  _that_  careless?"

Grace nodded. "Okay, you have a point. I hope you're right. Do you want me to come with you?"

"No," Gabriel said, shaking his head. "She'd get even more suspicious if I brought someone else. It would be like bringing a lawyer to a random chat – it's like screaming you've got something to hide."

"Good point," Grace admitted with a sigh. "Remember to stick to what you told the police."

"Sure," Gabriel said. Heturned to leave, and he paused for a moment as a sudden thought hit him: should he ask for some advice to von Glower as well? After all, he was the one who had hidden the body – Gabriel had no idea where nor he really cared to know it as long as he was sure it couldn't be found – and destroyed any evidence there might be about what had really happened, so maybe asking him if there was anything he could have overlooked could be a good idea.

Besides, he had been close to von Zell – Gabriel preferred to not speculate on  _how_  close they had been – before he went completely insane, so maybe he could have suggestions on how to behave around his relatives. Maybe he even knew that one. Thinking about it in that particular situation he could probably be more helpful than Grace could, but old habits die hard and Grace was always the one to ask to when in need for some sound advice –  _sound_  being the key word.

"Gabriel? Are you alright?"

Grace's voice reached his ears as if from miles away. He turned to look at her and shrugged. "Yes, I'm fine. I was just thinking about some… stuff," he said. For some reason, he had the feeling that letting Grace know that he was about to ask von Glower for  _any_  kind of advice wouldn't be a good idea. "Any progress with the research?" he asked.

"I think I'm on to something," she said with a nod. "There is this guy who's an expert of Roma folklore."

"Oh, right. The records say it was a 'gypsy' to curse him, right?"

"And rightfully so," Grace murmured with a frown. Even though she wouldn't wish anyone to end the same way that man had, he had brought it upon himself. He was cruel enough to be addressed as the Black Wolf since before he was even cursed, and he was a rapist. Still, to end like that… Grace shuddered slightly at the idea. She almost wished she had never read his last confession, his pleas for forgiveness and for the safety of his son and wife: it made him seem more of a man and less of a monster.

_But he was the real source of the tainted blood. He passed the curse down to his son, condemning him before he was even born. His death might have been horrible, but he still got the easy way out. How many people suffered because of his actions, of his legacy?_

That was true, and it was enough for Grace to stop feeling sorry for him… and she had to force herself to  _not_  feel sorry for his son. Not that it was too difficult: all she needed to do was reminding himself of the fate Ludwig had to suffer because of him, the same fate Gabriel might have to suffer if they didn't find a way to break the curse quickly.

"Fine, I get it, that guy sucked," Gabriel was saying. "I know that. But the point is that the one casted on him was a Roma curse, right?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "And I think we need more information on the curse itself. This von Kiefer guy should know everything about it… and about any possible way to break it," she paused for a moment, and Gabriel knew all too well that what paused meant – if there weren't any other way but killing the Alpha, he would have to kill von Glower – then she went on. "I'll set you an appointment with him, so you better start thinking up of some 'novel' you need info for."

He smirked – it hadn't taken her much to guess what his methods were. "Sure. You're the best, Gracie."

Grace rolled her eyes, but she was smiling faintly as he left.

* * *

Gabriel could have sworn he had never been so close to a heart attack when he had stepped into the cell to find it empty. In something like half a second, the worst possibilities had flashed in his mind – Grace killed him, the townspeople decided to take the matter in their own hands, Grace killed him, he escaped, Grace killed him… and what if Grace killed him? – but Gerde had been mercifully quick to step inside and let him know that von Glower was in the guest room she had already finished setting up for him.

Still, he went upstairs taking two stairs at time and he was actually panting just a little when he reached the top – he would be  _totally_  reassured only when he saw von Glower, possibly alive – and he was relieved when he heard him answering as he knocked the door. "Do come in!"

Well, it looked like he was making himself home already, Gabriel thought in mild amusement as he opened the door to see him sitting on the edge of the large bed in the middle of the room. Wearing a bathrobe.

_Oh, yeah. He definitely made himself home. Good thing Gerde had the foresight to get him more stuff than just a few clothes. He looks great in that bathrobe, by the way._

"I think you were quite correct," von Glower was saying, not noticing how Gabriel's gaze was lingering on him or choosing not to. "I really needed a shower."

He seemed perfectly at ease, and for a moment Gabriel felt like  _he_  was the guest… a rather embarrassed guest who tried to not stare at his host's wet, curly hair that stuck on his temples and made him suddenly feel tempted to reach out to brush them back.

He quickly chased away the thought and realized that he was supposed to say something. "Ah. Great," he said, and cleared his throat. "Feeling any better?" he asked, pretending to be very interested in the furniture of the guest room. After all he had only seen that room once, he told himself – and truth to be told he had almost forgotten how big it was, almost as much as his own. And Gerde had done a great job at setting it up, because now there was none of the dust Gabriel remembered, the bed was freshly made and the place looked far more comfortable and cosy than Gabriel would have ever thought it could be.

"Much better, yes," von Glower replied with a nod. "I hope I didn't cause you any further trouble."

"Eh?" Gabriel asked, his brain apparently too busy taking notice of a small drop of water sliding down von Glower's neck before disappearing under the bathrobe to wonder what he meant.

"The door. Was it because of me?" there was some slight amusement in von Glower's voice now.

… Oh, right. Gabriel had almost forgotten the reason why he was there in the first place. What the hell was up with him anyway?

_I blame the bathrobe._

_Shut up._

"Yes. I mean, no. Yes and no," he said quickly. Von Glower raised an eyebrow, and he clarified. "It was because of von Zell."

Von Glower's slightly amused expression immediately turned completely serious. "Von Zell?" he repeated.

"Yeah. Some relative of his who doesn't believe the whole hunting accident thing – his niece, from what she told me. Do you… know her or something?"

Von Glower shook his head. "No. I met none of his relatives personally, and he didn't like to speak about them. I didn't even know he had a niece."

Gabriel made a face. "If they're all that nice, I can see why he didn't want to talk about them," he said. "I get the feeling she doesn't like me. Maybe she suspects I have something to do with, you know… what happened. Whatever she  _thinks_  happened."

"Did she give you any reason to think she has such suspects?"

As Gabriel quickly summed up the conversation he paid close attention to von Glower's expression – and definitely  _not_  to the fact the bathrobe was slightly shorter than it probably should have been for a man of his height. The slight frown never left his face, and by the time Gabriel told him about Elsa Schröder's not-so-subtle threat it had deepened a little. "… And that's it," he finished. "I guess that ignoring her would only make her more insistent, so I'll go to speak to her to find out what she knows or doesn't know. But I'd like to know a few thing myself first."

"Of course," was the reply. "I'll tell you anything that could help."

"Awesome," Gabriel said, and sat on an armchair near the window – it felt safer than sitting on the edge of the bed with von Glower for some reason. Not that he thought he would do anything against him, but… it still felt safer that way. At least until he had actual clothes on and not just a bathrobe. "So… honest, this time?"

Von Glower looked at him openly. "Have I ever lied to you, Gabriel?" he asked quietly.

"Not  _really_ , but you did neglect to inform me of a few details about yourself." He gave a small grin to let him know he wasn't holding it against him, not really. "And it would be just great if you didn't omit anything this time around. And no dodging questions like you did with the Black Wolf one. Deal?"

A small chuckle escaped von Glower. "Of course."

"Great. First off, I need to know if there's any chance they'll find von Zell's body. My version is still that we went hunting together and then we got separated before I was attacked by some beast, but if they  _do_  find his body I doubt they'll miss the detail he was killed by a gunshot."

"They won't find him. They're searching for him in a relatively limited area: they think of a hunting accident, and thus that he couldn't go too far, not on foot. I brought him very far from the hunting lodge, in a secluded place nobody but us knew about," he said. He felt a sharp stab of pain in his chest as he thought back of the moment he had laid von Zell's body in the small hidden cave that had meant so much for both of them in better times, before he Changed him… and later, after the Change but before the Beast began to destroy his sanity.

He had been happy for a short while, cherishing everything he shared with Garr – sense of kinship, love for hunting, passion and closeness and affection – and there were some nights he still dreamt of those times they'd rest together on a mattress of earth and dead leaves, exhausted and content and  _alive_ , his teeth barely grazing at Garr's throat as their heartbeat began to settle. In the end, it was probably fitting that it would be there that he'd lay the empty shell of the man he had loved and yet destroyed, the same way he had destroyed Ludwig a century and a half earlier. "No, they'll never find him," he repeated, more to himself than to Gabriel.

"Good to know that," Gabriel said, rather relieved by how sure he seemed that von Zell's body would not be found. He guessed he could trust him on that one… not that he had much of a choice right now. "Because if this one doesn't believe it was a hunting accident, she might try to look better in other places."

"I doubt she'd get much help if she decides to do so. She came here alone, didn't she?"

"Yep. I didn't see anyone with her."

"Then she's probably on her own," von Glower said quietly. "Garr was never close to his relatives, and I know for a fact they'd be all too glad to have his death recorded as a simple hunting accident without any kind of scandal being involved. The main reason why they're still searching for him must be that they need to find his body for him to be legally dead. You must have noticed how quickly the police settled for the hunting accident and stopped considering any other option. They have a lot of power to press on them."

Gabriel gave a low whistle. "Well, wow. What a loving family. But I guess that's good news for us – if she's on her own and against the whole family there isn't much she can do, right?"

"That's right, I guess," von Glower said slowly then frowned in thought. "What I wonder if why she's getting through the trouble."

"Yeah, that's what I wondered to – also, there's got to be a  _reason_  why she's so suspicious of me. So here's the next question," Gabriel said, and leaned forward. "Do you think von Zell could have turned her into a werewolf?"

"No," von Glower immediately said, and shook his head. "No. Von Zell wouldn't have passed the Gift to anyone he didn't think would deserve it, and if he deemed anyone worthy… he would have introduced them to the club first, or at least told me."

"Even after you… stopped getting along?"

This time, von Glower stopped to think for a few moments. "Maybe not," he admitted eventually. "I suppose you're right, we can't ignore the possibility he decided to pass down the Blood to someone else after we fell apart… but I still think it's highly unlikely. Had he chosen someone to be his new companion, I don't think it would have been someone from his own family, and it wouldn't have been…" he paused, then he simply shook his head. "Highly unlikely," he repeated.

_It wouldn't have been… what?_

_A woman. He was about to say it wouldn't have been a woman – at this point there's little doubt over which way good old von Zell's swung, is there? Don't tell me you still think he and von Glower just hunted together. Besides, von Zell was still pretty much obsessing over his alpha when he died, so I don't think he had been up to find someone else. And even if von Zell were to choose a new lover, a new companion… it wouldn't have been a woman, and definitely not his niece._

… G _ood point._

"Yeah, I guess it's, uh… not really likely. So, let's just say I'm about to face a human. A troublesome one, maybe, but just a human," he said almost hopefully, though the idea of getting down in Rittersberg to repeat once again his own version of what had happened the night von Zell had died didn't exactly make him leap with joy. Not only because he didn't really feel like having to repeat the usual story to someone who didn't seem to inclined to believe to whatever he said, but also because… well, at least for now he'd rather stay away from Rittersberg as much as he could. He didn't really feel like facing a bunch of townspeople eager to know when was he going to kill the werewolf that they  _still_  viewed as the true responsible for Toni Huber's death, no matter what.

"That's no reason to underestimate her, Gabriel. Human beings should be never underestimated. They're capable of anything," von Glower almost chided him, and it was with some discomfort than Gabriel noticed how he was speaking as if he wasn't a human being at all – fine, he was a werewolf, but he was  _also_  a man… wasn't he?

_Of course he is. And so you are._

"I'll, eh, keep it in mind," he finally said before he changed subject. "On other news, Gracie already found some expert on Roma folklore and stuff. She's making an appointment right now – maybe I'll find out something that could help us out," he said, trying to sound as optimistic as he could. "Us, and Ludwig."

" _You_  and Ludwig," von Glower corrected him quietly.

Gabriel blinked. "What?"

"Even if you could find any other way but killing me to break the curse on him and yourself, I highly doubt it would work for me," von Glower stated simply. "I'm a born werewolf, Gabriel, with no real distinction between man and beast. My curse cannot be removed."

"Hey, you can never know. Until two hours ago you kept saying there is no way to break the curse on my and good old Ludwig, but now even you've got to admit there could be a chance, so-"

"You don't understand, Gabriel," his tone as he cut him off was warm and patient, but firm. "You can't remove something I was born with. And even if it were possible, I wouldn't want you to."

Gabriel stared at him for a few moments. "You wouldn't?" he repeated, suddenly feeling rather stupid for just assuming he was bound to want the curse to be removed: from his letter, it was clear he had long since learned not only to live with his curse, but also to enjoy it, to think of it as a blessing other than a burden. Loneliness aside, he revelled in that life... but hadn't he pretty much admitted that such loneliness could get unbearable?

"No, Gabriel. The Beast is such a great part of me – I could never remove it, only cage it. Even if I  _could_  muzzle and chain it in the depths of my soul, it would still strain against its bounds with all its might, and it would result in more agony than I could bear," he stared at Gabriel, who thought those eyes were staring through his soul. "I am both beast and man, and never entirely either. I always were, will always be until my last breath. I can't change that. I don't  _want_  to."

Gabriel kept staring at him for a few moments, stunned, then he sighed. "But it comes with a price, y'know. Didn't you say it becomes one hell of a burden if you have to carry it alone?"

"It is, of course. But never as much as having to lock the greater part of me away, never to roam free again," von Glower said quietly, and Gabriel suddenly knew two things: that von Glower wouldn't hesitate to choose even death over having to cage the Beast, and that he hadn't abandoned the hope that Gabriel could change his mind and actually join him.

_But it won't happen. It can't happen. He'll have to accept it sooner or later. The choice is between companionship and the Beast – he can't have both. If he stays a werewolf he'll be alone, always._

_What if it turns out he can't stand it? What if he gives in again?_

Gabriel frowned. "Fine, it's your choice. But I've for to warn you, Friedrich," he said quietly, staring straight in von Glower's eyes, and he returned his gaze calmly. "I don't want to kill you, but if I find out you're even  _thinking_  about Changing anyone else I  _will_. I can't take the risk of having someone else turning out the same way as von Zell, or ending the same way as Ludwig, or dying like Toni Huber."

"Of course not. Rest assured, I will never take the risk again."

That was the reply Gabriel had been hoping for, but he still felt rather uncomfortable… and somewhat scared by the fact von Glower seemed to really think he could change his mind.

_And why not? You enjoyed being a wolf. You loved it._

He frowned at the thought. Yes, being a wolf hadn't been that bad at all, he couldn't deny it – it  _was_  something he could get used to… but he couldn't allow himself to give in. He couldn't because… because…

_Because I'm a Schattenjäger, that's why. I'm supposed to fight this kind of creatures, not to be one of them._

_You're supposed to fight evil stuff, aren't you? Von Glower doesn't seem evil incarnated to me – he's not even hurt by the talisman. Hell, you ARE a werewolf right now – do you feel evil?_

Gabriel bit his lower lip, then he decided to just ignore the thought. He couldn't stay a werewolf, period. And he  _really_  couldn't be von Glower's companion, because… well… he liked that guy and everything, but he was straight. Definitely straight. One hundred percent straight. Anyone who knew him could confirm that, and that sealed the matter.

_Sure you are. But just to be safe, how about chatting again when he happens to have some clothes on?_

Well, that was a good point. As much as he usually felt almost scarily at ease in his presence, right now being in the same room as von Glower made him uncomfortable… not only because of the bathrobe – fine, that wasn't helping either – but also because it was so clear he was still hoping he would become his… companion. And Gabriel had stopped deluding himself into thinking that by 'companion' he meant just a hunting partner.

"Er… great. That's what I wanted to hear," he finally said as he realized that von Glower was still waiting to him to speak, then he got up from the armchair. "I'm going in Rittersberg for a while. The sooner I get rid of her, the better. You can walk around as much as you want, but… I'd avoid Grace if I were you. At least for now. I'll tell Gerde to let you have… something to read?" he suggested a little hesitantly. How the hell do you entertain a guy who's more like your  _prisoner_  than your guest anyway?

Thankfully, von Glower seemed sufficiently at ease with the situation for both of them. "I would greatly appreciate that. Do you happen to have a copy of your novel here? I didn't get a chance to read it yet, and from what I heard it's quite… interesting."

"Sure, no problem," Gabriel said with a shrug, trying to ignore the fact that von Glower knew enough about him to realize without too much effort how autobiographical the novel was. "Hey, tell me what you think when you're done. Don't worry, you can be merciless if you don't like it."

Von Glower laughed. "You certainly have a way with words when talking – if you're even half as skilled as a writer, I doubt I'll have any complaints."

Gabriel grinned, a little flattered. "That's not what Gracie says, but I'll remind you of this if it turns out you spoke too soon."

"I'm sure you won't need to."

"Wait 'till you read the book," Gabriel repeated, struggling to keep his ego from bloating even more than usual – but what the hell, he was a vain guy and he didn't mind one bit being complimented. And hadn't von Glower once mentioned that he also looked better than Byron ever did?

_Dangerous territory to get into, Gabriel._

… Yeah, maybe he should get thinking of something else. Like dealing with von Zell's niece, trying to keep people in Rittersberg from doing anything stupid and then talking to that Roma stuff expert – possibly in he order. Feeling smug over anything von Glower could say to compliment him definitely shouldn't be in his 'to do' list. "So, uh… see you later. I'll let you know how it went," he said, finally getting up from the armchair.

Von Glower nodded, saying nothing as he got up as well and escorted him to the door – even though he was supposedly a prisoner he supposed that old habits die hard – and closed the wooden door softly as Gabriel left. For a few moments he stood there, deep in thought. Only the previous evening he had been ready to die at the hands of the man he had hoped he could share his life with, he had abandoned any hope that he could accept to join him… but apparently, he had been wrong.

The fact he hadn't wanted to kill him but had rather decided to keep him there – to keep him  _safe_  – while looking for any other way to get rid of the curse had given him new hope… a hope that kept getting steadily stronger with each conversation they had, every moment they spent around each other. Von Glower had been surprised to realize that despite everything that had happened and despite the fact Gabriel had found out what he was in such a way the warmth, the  _bond_  that had started to develop between them since their first meeting was still there; the storm had shaken but not broken it.

Of course, Gabriel's trust towards him had received a rather hard blow. It was true that he had never downright lied to him, but he had kept the fact he was a werewolf hidden to him, and he had avoided replying to his question when he had asked him if he knew anything about the Black Wolf. He still remembered how deeply that question had unsettled him: he wasn't easily unsettled by anything, but that simple question had been enough for him to drop his glass.

Thinking about it, it could have been enough for anyone to think that something had to be wrong with him… and still Gabriel had trusted him enough to come in his home later that evening, trusted him enough to seek him out of everyone in the lodge after he found out the truth about von Zell. And after all that finding out he was a werewolf as well, the  _alpha_  werewolf… it had to feel like a betrayal to him, von Glower thought, especially since he couldn't read his letter and thus his explanation until it was almost too late.

Ludwig's hurt, furious expression during their last meeting resurfaced from his memory for a brief instant, but he was quick to chase it away. No, it wouldn't be the same with Gabriel: Ludwig had thought of what he had done to him as the worst kind of betrayal, and he probably wasn't too far from he truth. With Gabriel, however, it had been a less… devastating kind of betrayal, and he had at least accepted his explanations on how he had never meant for things to go that way.

Also, his blood already was supernatural and the Change would not affect his mind like it had affected Ludwig's, or von Zell's. And he was almost certain that, unlike Ludwig, Gabriel could accept the Gift sooner or later; maybe by the next full moon, once the Beast took over and he could roam free again, and von Glower would be there to show him how much of a blessing it could be: he would be there to guide him, to teach him how to use his new abilities both in his wolf and human form, how to change shape at will, how to hunt… and maybe, after that, he would truly  _want_  to share his life with him. He would want  _him_.

It wasn't too much to hope, maybe: the way Gabriel had looked at him a few times during that conversation wouldn't have escaped anyone, let alone him. Of course he had been quick to change subject and turn his gaze away each time he caught himself staring, but it hadn't bothered him. Gabriel might still be in denial, which didn't surprise him – he had to be so confused now, so filled with conflicting thoughts and emotions – but he still had some hope that sooner or later he would simply stop trying to hold back and take what he wanted.

He couldn't force him to do so, of course: that depended entirely on Gabriel. All that von Glower could do for now was waiting.

And he could be very, very patient.

* * *

Sitting on the edge of the fountain in the town square, Elsa frowned as she looked up at Schloss Ritter. She stared up at the castle for a few moments before she brought the cigarette to her mouth again and took a long drag, pausing a few instants before exhaling the smoke. It felt comforting, like always when getting back to old habits you lost years ago. She had been a strong smoker since when she was twelve – a very idiotic way to do something her mother wouldn't approve behind her back – and she had started to get a rather nasty smoker's cough by the time she was sixteen, but she had managed to hide it from everyone.

From everyone but uncle Garr, maybe because he had been the only one who had bothered to look closely or maybe just because he was the only one smart enough to guess it. He had immediately guessed what the cause of her sudden access of coughing during a dinner with relatives was, and he had followed her outside when she had quickly left the dining room in search of some fresh air. He had said nothing for a while nor he had offered any help: he had just kept staring at her with a mixture of amusement and annoyance as she bent with her hands on her knees and struggled to breathe again, then he had only muttered a few words before walking back inside.

"That's the most idiotic way to kill yourself. Looks like you're as stupid as your father was," he had told her, and something in the coldness and indifference in his voice had startled her – it was the same indifference her mother would probably show if she ever guessed what she was doing.

Elsa had just then realized that she was compromising her health to spite someone who wouldn't even care, like she hadn't cared when her husband had died. Smoking had probably had a hand in her father's heart attack – from what she could remember, and it wasn't much, he smoked like a chimney other than drinking a lot… then again, anyone would drink with Brunhilde Schröder nee von Zell as a wife – and she would be damned if she gave her mother the opportunity to bury her like she had buried him.

Her uncle was right, she had realized: when your smoker's cough gets so bad and you're still a couple of months away from your seventeenth birthday, you're on a bad road… and she didn't want to end like her father – the man who  _supposedly_  was her father but she looked absolutely nothing like – had. So she had quit just like that, not even finishing the half-full package she still had back home, and the coughing had eventually disappeared. Her uncle had never mentioned it, but he had certainly noticed that.

But a couple of months ago, when it had become clear that something had to have happened to him since he was nowhere to be found in the woods where he had disappeared, Elsa had bought the first package of cigarettes in over seven years. And it had felt good, much like slipping your feet in an old pair of comfy slippers: she wasn't smoking nearly as much as she used to, only a cigarette when she was feeling too nervous, but it really helped. She had been nervous awfully often in these past months.

Oh, not that she usually wasn't. On the palms of her hands she had plenty of thin, small semicircular scars – the result of her old habit of clenching her fists so tight that her nails broke the skin when she was really angry and trying to hold back from breaking something or doing something very, very unpleasant to someone. Elsa had no trouble admitting she had an awful, awful tempter, the kind of awful temper that can get you in trouble. Sometimes she had toyed with the idea of getting some therapy, especially after she had turned eighteen and it had turned out her father had left almost all the money of his consistent life insurance to her – a detail that had allowed herself to leave home right away and stay away from her mother while continuing her studies, something of which she was pretty grateful – but it had stayed just an idea.

Not that it was urgent anyway: now she had learned to control her temper – most times – though she had been close to be in trouble a couple of times years back. Thankfully her relatives were sufficiently eager to keep the family's reputation safe and influent enough to make sure she wouldn't face any consequence.

_But this time you might have gotten yourself in something bigger than what they could handle... or would want to._

Yes, she conceded, maybe she had. She didn't know exactly what she had expected when she had knocked at that door, and she couldn't even begin to admit to herself how much it had shaken her seeing that Gabriel Knight – the man that until the previous night had been nothing but a name to her – looked exactly like in the picture she had seen in her dream. She had never, she was  _sure_  of it, seen him in her life. Find him, her uncle had said, and she had… but what now?

"So much for Crazyland," she muttered to no on in particular, taking another drag before blowing out the smoke. "I'm in fucking Twilight Zone."

_So what are you going to do now?_

_I'll talk to him, given that I don't give in to the temptation to punch that smirk away from his face._

_You had better not. It's not exactly a way to encourage people to reply to your questions._

No, she admitted to herself, she had better not. She frowned, somewhat bothered by the fact she had no idea why he hated that guy so much. Well, aside from the fact she had the weird feeling he knew more of his uncle's disappearance than he would admit.

_But what makes you think that? Dream aside, of course._

_I don't know, it's a gut feeling. I don't like him. And I'll like him even less if he doesn't show up. But I think he will. He had better._

Elsa gave another nasty glance up to Schloss Ritter and took one last drag before throwing the cigarette butt on the ground and stomping on it with some more strength than it was necessary. She stared down at the remains with a slight frown still on her face, then her stomach grumbled. She had already eaten: she had some breakfast before leaving home that morning and then she had lunch in Rittersberg before walking up to Schloss Ritter – two blood sausages and a steak she had pretty much devoured – but now she was hungry again. No, not just hungry; she was ravenous.

Her stomach grumbled again and she walked back into the gasthof. She could as well eat while she waited for that imbecile – even tough there was that annoying American couple inside and that place was depressing as heck, they had the best blood sausages she had ever-

"Hi there… Elsa, right?"

Well, it looked like he had decided to show up after all. So much the better for both of them. "Mr. Knight," she said, barely turning to glance at him. "I was just getting back in to eat and drink something. Care to tell me exactly what happened that night over a beer?"

It was an invitation, but her icy tone, suspicious glare and stiff posture made it sound anything but inviting – she was making it pretty clear that she would endure his company only because she had to and certainly not because she  _wanted_  to. However, Gabriel was used to it and just gave her what he knew was his most charming smile. "I'd love to," he drawled.

Far from being charmed, she just gave a slight grunt and stepped inside the  _gasthof_. Gabriel sighed before following her in, trying to get psychologically ready for both the discussion and the glares he was sure he would receive form Werner Huber. He could only hope he would have enough sense to not even mention the word 'werewolf' in front of an outsider.


	7. Between a Rock and a Hard Place

"So  _this_  hole of a place would be Rittersberg?" Mosely muttered to no one in particular as he stopped the car in the middle of Rittersberg's square to look around. Man, no wonder that place was so hard to find on maps. He would be surprised to know that there were more than a couple hundred people living there. What the hell was Knight – a guy who had grown up in New Orleans and loving it – doing in a place like that?

_Well, finding out is pretty much the reason why you hauled your ass over here in the first place._

Yeah, good point. Mosely briefly glanced up to see what he supposed was Schloss Ritter. It was pretty impressive, he had to admit, but when he tried to picture Gabriel Knight living in a place like that he was simply unable to. He turned to the square to see a woman looking at him with curiosity – maybe he could ask her if that was actually Schloss Ritter. He only hoped she could understand English.

"Uh… excuse me?" he called out, leaning slightly out of the car's window. He pointed at the castle above them. "Is that Schloss Ritter?"

The woman studied him for a few moments before nodding. "Ja, it is."

"Great," Mosely said, relieved to know he was in the right place. "How do I get up there? With the car, I mean."

She eyed at him suspiciously again, causing Mosely to shift a little uncomfortably – well, she certainly wasn't the welcoming type. He just hoped not everyone in that town was like that. If so… why the hell had Knight stayed there a whole year anyway? "Are you friends with Herr Knight?"

Mosely had to hold back a mocking snort upon hearing someone referring to Gabriel as 'Herr Knight'. "Oh, yeah. Long time friends. I'm in, uh, vacation here, and I thought it would be nice to drop by."

She stared at him for a few moments, then she just nodded and gestured at a road starting from the other side of the square. "Go up that road. You can't miss it."

"Okay, great. Thanks," Mosely said as he started the car again and went up to Schloss Ritter, feeling even uneasier as he saw through the rear view mirror that the woman followed him with her gaze until he was out of sight.

* * *

Thankfully, Werner Huber wasn't stupid enough to ask him anything in front of Elsa. He simply took their orders – two icy beers and one blood sausage – and left them alone to speak, the stiffness in his back the only hint that something wasn't quite right. The Smiths were sitting at their usual table and had waved at him when he had gotten in, but they hadn't tried to approach or speak to him yet. Well, by choosing the farthest table in a corner Elsa had made it pretty clear to anyone what she didn't want anyone to interrupt the chat.

A chat that Gabriel strongly doubted he would enjoy.

"So," he said after a few moments of silence, trying to appear as dumb as possible. "What is it you wanted to know again?"

Her eyes immediately narrowed. "Are you playing dumb, or are you just plain stupid?" she asked coldly.

Gabriel frowned, suddenly feeling angry. He was in one hell of a mess already because of that nutcase of her uncle, he still had pretty much no idea of how he could get things back in place and he didn't know how long the people of Rittersberg would be willing to wait for him to figure out a way. Last thing he felt like tolerating was being put under even more stress by some bitch with PMS treating him like dirt. "Why don't you take a pick?" he said, his voice growing colder before he could even try to stop himself.

Elsa didn't seem unsettled, just even more hostile, but that hardly bothered him at that point. "It would be a tough choice since I have very little patience with both comedies and stupidity," she said, "but my guess is that you're just playing dumb. So here's some advice –  _stop it_. I'm really not in the mood, and I haven't had my beer yet," she gave him an absolutely fake smile.

Just like that, Gabriel suddenly knew what she reminded him of. When he was a kid, Mosely's father had caught a fox with rabies on their lawn and both him and Franklin had been allowed to take a look at the animal from safe distance. Gabriel had been struck by the look in the fox's eyes as it stared at him – they looked almost human, insane, and clever… dangerously so, just like the eyes he was staring at now. Yes, that was what Elsa Schröder reminded him of right now: a fox with rabies. Not insane yet, maybe, but still halfway between Sanity Square and Crazy Plaza and likely to move further towards the latter.

Maybe being very, very careful with anything he said wouldn't be a bad idea now, he thought as Werner Huber thankfully interrupted the silence by bringing them their beers. He gulped down some beer, more to gain some more moments to think how to begin than because he really felt like drinking it, and when he put it back on the table he realized that Elsa had gulped down half of her stein already. Hell, did kids start drinking beer with their milk in that country or what?

Gabriel finally put down his stein with an inward sigh. "So, I guess you want to know what exactly happened when von Zell disappeared, eh?"

He half expected her to say something sarcastic, but for once she just nodded.

"Well, there isn't much to say. We went on this night time hunt with baron von Glower, and-"

"Why just the three of you?" Elsa asked sharply.

Gabriel shrugged and took another sip of beer with studied calmness. "No idea, really. It was von Glower's idea. After all he and your uncle were the best hunters in the club, and maybe they just wanted to show me-"

"I take it you made friends with my uncle quickly," Elsa cut him off again, her eyes narrowing. Everyone and their dog knew that uncle Garr was anything but a friendly person, and the other people in the club had mentioned his dislike for Gabriel Knight. If he tried to claim they were friends or anything, she would know he was lying.

Gabriel, on the other hand, smelled the trap from a mile away – it wasn't a really subtle one, really. She sure needed practice with that kind of stuff. "Well, not really. I mostly, uh, made friends with baron von Glower," he said with a shrug. "Your uncle wasn't really happy about it, to be honest."

"I see," she said, then she paused as Huber went to their table once more, this time to serve her the blood sausage. She stabbed it with her fork and took a bite, chewing as if she hadn't eaten in days. Gabriel bit his lower lip, trying to not think back of the way von Zell had been gnawing on that arm when he had found him feasting on corpses in that pit. "And why would he accept to go hunting with  _you_?"

"I have no idea. One of the guys in the club cracked a joke about him planning to shoot me at the first occasion. Von Aigner, I think," he said with a shrug. "I can only guess Friedrich-" he trailed off as he realized his slip.

"Who?" Elsa immediately asked, not bothering to swallow her bite before speaking. She was staring at him intently, as if waiting for him to make a mistake before… yeah, before doing what?

"Von Glower," Gabriel immediately corrected himself. "My guess is that von Glower convinced him. Maybe he hoped baron von Zell would… change his mind about me," he lied.

Elsa held back a snort at that last statement – for some reason, she strongly doubted her uncle would ever appreciate him in any way – and took another bite of sausage. "And did he borrow clothes from you or baron von Glower?" she asked.

Gabriel seemed taken aback. "I… don't think so. I had to borrow the clothes, but I don't know about him. Why…?"

"All his hunting clothes were in his room," Elsa said. "Neatly stacked, none of them missing, none of them having been used yet. Same goes for his boots. And I find it rather hard trying to picture anyone taking part without being properly dressed for it."

That was a detail Gabriel hadn't even thought of – and now that he thought about it, the police hadn't even mentioned it. "Ah," he finally uttered, biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from telling her that at least he was wearing plenty of  _fur_  when he went to hunt.

"Same goes for his rifles. He had brought two with him at the lodge, and they were still in his room. None of them had fired recently." There was an oddly satisfied note in Elsa's voice as she watched Gabriel squirm a little. He wasn't telling her all the truth, she  _knew_  he wasn't, and his nervousness only added to that certainty. It was kind of comforting, thinking that coming there hadn't been madness or wasted time to begin with. "Didn't he even bring a rifle with him that night, Mr. Knight?"

Damn, Gabriel thought, those were all details the police hadn't even mentioned when they had questioned him over what had happened. Still, they were all pretty obvious missing details of the picture. How could they miss them? Had von Zell's family really pressed that much for them to only look into the hunting accident theory so that they could avoid any possible scandal? Could be. Hadn't it been so darn convenient for him until that moment, he could have felt sorry for that asshole – when your own family puts business before the truth on your disappearance, your home must be a very bad place to be. "I think he had one," he finally said, "but it could have been one of the rifles I saw in the lodge. They had plenty of weapons anyone could use."

"I understand," Elsa said, but she wasn't convinced at all – why would her uncle bring his own rifles just to use the shared ones? And why the hell hadn't anyone mentioned a missing rifle? There was either none missing, or someone had decided to keep the disappearance of one of them hidden for some reason. "And what happened after you left for the hunt?"

Gabriel gave her what he hoped looked like an embarrassed smile. "Well, things get a bit confusing at that point. I lost sight of the others, and next thing I know I was being attacked by… something. I was very dark, but I think it might have been one of the wolves that escaped from the zoo. Have you heard about-"

"Yes. Go ahead."

"Well, not much more to say. Von Glower heard me screaming and he scared the wolf away by shooting in the air or something. I was wounded in the attack, and von Glower helped me back to the lodge. He lost sight of von Zell when he rushed to help me out, though – he assumed he was following him, but he must have lost him at some point. It can be pretty hard to  _not_  lose sight of someone in those woods at night, you know."

"How very convenient," Elsa muttered under her breath, before swallowing the last bite of sausage. The hunger hadn't quite vanished yet, but if anything it didn't feel like it was gnawing at her insides anymore.

"What?" Gabriel muttered, more out of surprise for the fact he could hear her so clearly even though she spoke so quietly than because of what she had just said. It looked like von Glower was telling the truth when he had said that his hearing would start getting sharper even in human form.

"Nothing," she said before gulping down the rest of her beer. "And neither of you saw my uncle again, right?"

"Right."

_He's lying. I'm not sure how much and about what, but I know he's lying._

_If he's lying, von Glower must be lying too._

_Then I know what's my next step._

"I see," Elsa finally got up and put some money – more than enough for the two beers and the sausage, Gabriel noticed – on the table. "Your drink is on me. Thanks for your time, Mr. Knight. We might run in each other again sooner or later," she gave him an odd smile that Gabriel found anything but friendly, and he was suddenly reminded of a very similar smile that had been addressed to him not too long ago – von Zell's mocking smile when he had muttered that Gabriel's presence in the hunting trip would make for an  _interesting_   _exercise_.

A chill ran down Gabriel's spine at the thought, but he forced himself to ignore it. She wasn't von Zell, she was just… just… well, she wasn't von Zell. "You're welcome," he finally said as he got up himself, purposely ignoring her remark on how they could meet again. Elsa only gave him a sharp nod before she turned her back to him and left the  _gasthof_  with quick steps, and Gabriel couldn't hold back a sigh of relief as the door closed behind her. Still trying his hardest to ignore the way Werner Huber kept glancing at him, he walked up to the table where the Smiths were sitting.

"Hi there. Mind if I sit down?"

"Of course not, dear!" Meryl Smith seemed as enthusiastic as always to see him. "We don't mind at all, right, Emil?"

"We don't mind at all, dear," Mr. Smith said patiently.

"But you  _have_  to tell us," Mrs. Smith lowered her voice somehow conspiratively, "what were you talking about with that girl? It had to be something important. She waited here for a while for you, and she kept walking back and forth like a caged animal when she wasn't sitting…"

Gabriel wasn't sure he liked it at all how she had immediately compared her to a caged animal. "Well, it wasn't exactly a pleasant chat," he said with a shrug. "By the way, have you noticed something… odd about her?" he asked. After all, she was supposedly a psychic. Maybe she had noticed something… namely, whether she might be a werewolf or not.

"Other than an awful lot of suppressed anger? Nothing at all, dear. Beside, maybe…" Mrs. Smith frowned in thought, then sighed. "Oh, if only she let me read her the tarot cards!"

"You tried to do that to her?"

"Oh, yes. She was sitting all alone after she was done eating, and I tried to talk a little since she seemed so…" Mrs. Smith frowned for a moment. "Well, not really upset, but  _thoughtful_. And I don't think she was having any  _nice_  thoughts."

Yeah, Gabriel could picture that. He seriously doubted someone like her could have any nice thought at all – she was one of the folks who wouldn't manage to fly if a ton of pixie dust was poured on them. No happy thoughts for those with rabies. And if she did have any… he wasn't sure he wanted to know what kind of thoughts someone like that would consider pleasant. "And she didn't really want to chat, uh?"

"No, she only replied by monosyllables. But I was sure something was troubling her, and I tried to suggest…" she shrugged a little and shuffled her tarot cards. "Well, let's just say she told me to mind my own business and walked out. She was quite rude, really."

"I see. Sorry you guys had to put up with her," Gabriel gave a little grin. So she truly did have the charming personality of a Rottweiler with PMS, regardless who she was talking to. Good to know it wasn't just him.

"Oh, it doesn't really bother me – it wasn't at me that her anger was directed, not really. She's one of those people who are, how should I say? Angry at the universe in general," she gave a small laugh, but then she turned serious. "Unless there's something more specific that's upsetting her. What did you talk about? There has to be a reason why she came here to seek you after all."

Gabriel hesitated for a moment, then he decided that the Smiths had proved themselves to be trustworthy, so there was no reason at all why he shouldn't tell them the truth. "Long story short, she's von Zell's niece. The beta werewolf responsible for the killings," he added as he noticed Mr. Smith was having some trouble remembering who that name belonged to. "She doesn't believe the whole hunting accident theory, and she, uh… doesn't seem to really love me for some reason. I think she could know something, so we were all wondering… do you think she could be a werewolf too?"

"Oh!" Mrs. Smith stared at him, and for a few instants she seemed to be considering the idea before she shook her head. "I don't think so, dear. She seems a… restless one, alright, but I don't think she's cursed. Even though, now that I think about it…"

"What?" Gabriel pressed on.

She turned to glance at her husband. "She really ate a lot of meat, didn't she?"

"Oh, yes," Mr. Smith nodded, turning to glance at Gabriel. "The sausage you saw her eating was the third one she had in little more than a hour. She had two more earlier,  _and_  a steak. A bloody steak, she expressly asked for it to be barely cooked. It was almost raw inside. And then, when she had almost finished, she put fork and knife aside and just took the bone in her hands to bite off whatever meat there was left. After a while she just… broke the bone to reach the marrow," he shook his head. "At first we just thought she was very hungry, but now that you're asking if she could be, well… there was something  _animalistic_  in the way she ate."

"Animalistic," his wife repeated almost solemnly with a nod. "Yes, that's the right word to describe it."

The memory of von Zell feeding on corpses in his lair – sometimes he still dreamed that scene, so clearly that he could have sworn he was back in that cave looking at that man-beast eating and eating and eating among rotting corpses – briefly flashed in front of Gabriel's eyes and made his hair stand on end. He glanced down at his arms to notice he had goosebumps. "Animalistic, uh?" he heard himself asking. It sure as hell didn't sound good in the context. It made his skin crawl. "But you  _don't_  think she is a werewolf, right?"

"I didn't get any really… strong sensation while observing her," Mrs. Smith said, shaking her head. "Nothing that felt like a coursed soul. Just a troubled one. And maybe she was really just hungry."

"Yeah, maybe," Gabriel agreed, frowning a little in thought. It looked like he and the others kept getting mixed signals from her: some things in her behaviour made them think she could be a werewolf, and it would make sense in a way, but then again neither von Glower nor Mrs. Smith seemed inclined to think she was, and Gabriel supposed he could trust them. Of course, all of his senses screamed 'trouble' any time he looked at her, but trouble can come in human form rather than as a creature of darkness after all.

Maybe he was worrying too much anyway: she was probably just a human – an unpleasant one, but still just a human – with some suspicions and no real proof that he could be somehow involved in von Zell's disappearance. With some luck, he wouldn't hear of her again.

"Mr. Knight?"

Gabriel was snapped from his thoughts as Mrs. Smith called out for him. "Sorry, got a bit distracted," he said with a somewhat sheepish grin, avoiding to look at Huber – who was  _still_  staring at him, he wasn't glad to notice. "What is it?"

She lowered her voice after quickly glancing in Werner Huber's direction, and Gabriel knew what she was about to ask before she even opened her mouth to speak again. "I don't want to nag you, of course, but… have you decided what to do with von Glower?"

Even though it was a question Gabriel couldn't say he could reply to yet, it was kind of a relief hearing someone else referring to him with his name rather than as 'the werewolf' or 'the Black Wolf'. "I… still don't know," he admitted.

"I see," she hesitated for a moment before she went on. "But I have to warn you, these people aren't going to be patient for much time. They don't feel safe with him alive, you see."

"Yeah, I know," Gabriel sighed "I hoped telling them that the talisman doesn't work on him would make them back off just a little."

"Oh, I think it  _did_  help," Mrs. Smith said reassuringly "it surely gained you some time, unless… Well…"

"Unless they think I made it up," Gabriel finished for her.

"Well, yes."

"I didn't make it up, honest. He could even touch it, and von Zell couldn't even stand  _looking_  at it."

"Dear, I  _believe_  you!" she said fervently. "We both do, right, Emil?"

"Of course, dear."

"But you see, not everyone else does," she went on. "Some of them may not be patient for much longer. I heard… oh, dear, I heard that Toni Huber's parents are coming here soon, and if they think he's to be held responsible for what happened to their little girl I'm afraid they will demand for you to kill him."

Great, Gabriel thought, that was some news he would have preferred not getting. Meeting Crista Huber's gaze had been horribly difficult when he had accepted the case already, how could he stand looking at her now while he refused to kill the werewolf that she and everyone thought of as responsible for Toni's death just as von Zell? And on one hand… he actually couldn't say von Glower didn't have a share of responsibility for what had happened. "Shit," he finally muttered, dropping his shoulders. It looked like he was running out of time  _already_ , and his excuse of a plan hadn't even started.

Mrs. Smith seemed to understand his frustration. "Have you thought of something you could do already?"

Gabriel decided to not let her know that the only thing he had resembling to a plan was asking some expert for a way to lift the curse  _without_  having to kill the alpha werewolf… which was exactly what everyone demanded for him to do, after all.

"Kind of," he finally said, sounding unconvincing to his own ears.

* * *

"Yes, that would be perfect. Thank you so much, I know it was very sudden… where's the university again? Thanks," Grace wrote down the address on a piece of paper, immensely grateful for the fact the Roma folklore expert was both a pretty fluent English speaker and very willing to help. It was about time she finally got lucky, Grace thought as she finally hung the phone. She was about to get up from the desk and get downstairs to let at least Gerde know, all while hoping she  _wouldn't_  walk in von Glower, but before she could even take a step the phone rang.

She sighed, faintly hoping it wasn't her mother, and went to answer. "Hello?"

"Hello, uh… is that you, Grace?" a slightly nervous and rather familiar male voice came from the receiver, but now her mind was too busy with the fact she had managed to get an appointment with an expert who could help them to figure out a way to break the curse to even try guessing. It wasn't Gabriel, that was for sure.

"Yes, it's me. And you are…?"

"It's Georg. Georg Immerding. You do, well... remember me, right?"

Oh, right - Georg. He sounded so nervous that Grace couldn't help but chuckle a little, since it reminded her of how nervous he had been right before the performance. Well, it was no wonder – he had so much pressure on him, with such an important opera to direct and so many people there to watch it. She had seen just how much he had to work on it, and he had been increasingly nervous for weeks as the great day approached. The night of the Opera he wasn't just nervous – he was downright  _scared_ , and that was something not even Grace could miss, even under pressure as she was herself. In the end he had managed to do incredibly well, despite his nervousness and despite the mess that had happened.

"Oh, Georg! Sure I do remember you. How are you doing? I heard that the Opera was a great success," she said, feeling just a tad guilty for not sticking around – then again she had no choice, did she? There was a wounded werewolf to get out of the Opera quickly and without being spotted.

Georg laughed a little. "Yes, it was a success, even though we're still trying to figure out what happened with that wolf," he said. "It was a stroke of luck that everyone believed we had stunning special effects. Now it's going to be troublesome explaining the public why they won't see that trick again," he laughed again, and Grace couldn't help but notice he had a nice laughter. The previous times they had met he had been awfully under pressure for his upcoming debut as a director, and his laughs had mostly been nervous.

"Uh… yeah, we were lucky. Especially since there were no incidents," Grace could barely hold back a shudder at the thought of what could have happened that night if von Glower hadn't sought shelter in the basement, if Gabriel had lost control, if… no, enough with that. She wouldn't worry about what could have happened – the plan hadn't worked and now they would need to find another way to turn Gabriel back to normal unless he realized that he  _really_  should kill von Glower, but at least there hadn't been casualties among the crowd.

"Tell me about it. I had nightmares for a couple of nights about that wolf jumping off the stage to tear my throat out. An orchestra director's stick doesn't make a very effective self-defense weapon."

_And I had nightmares as well, alright. About Gabriel losing control just like that. And if it happened… I don't know what I could have done._

"Yeah, that would have been… horrible," she said, though the word wasn't nearly enough to tell just how much she dreaded the thought. "I'm so glad nothing happened. Also, it was… great how you kept going. I wouldn't have blamed you if you just dropped everything and ran away."

The laugh coming from the other side of the line was a tad nervous this time. "Well, I told you once already – I was directing the first play a lost Wagner opera, and I couldn't have stopped if Wagner himself appeared on stage. I think my hands would have kept directing if the wolf really tore my throat out."

The thought was a tad morbid, but it made Grace smile a little. She wondered if the fact he had kept playing might have had a hand in making things go relatively smoothly: had he stopped, the public probably would have known it was no special effect and could have panicked, and who knew how Gabriel might have reacted then. The thought made her shudder. "You did a wonderful job, Georg."

"I… well, thanks," he said, and she could just picture him blushing as he said that, then he seemed to be reminded of something. "Oh, and before I forget – was, uh, wondering if we could meet tomorrow. Just to have a coffee or something like that, I mean. This Opera was my great occasion, and I wouldn't have had it without you."

There was no way she could take the time for something like that, not in the middle of that mess – they had an appointment with that specialist of Roma folklore the next morning anyway – but she was surprised to realize she felt a tad sorry she couldn't. While she and Georg had rarely spoken of much of anything that wasn't Wagner and his lost opera – with her mind taken by her plan – their talks had always been rather pleasant… and the thought of letting herself relax and just chat about anything but werewolves and curses after the past few, frantic months seemed almost idyllic now. Maybe later, she told herself.

"I'd really like to, but I'm afraid I can't," she said a tad apologetically. "I have an appointment at the university in the morning, and…"

"That's not a problem! I live very close to the university, so we could-" he trailed off. "Er, I mean… if you don't mind."

For some reason, Grace found herself trying to picture Gabriel asking something like and sounding as embarrassed about it. It didn't work. No wonder.

"Well…" she hesitated. She ought to say no, she knew it; then again, she had made the appointment for Gabriel, and she was mainly going with him because she could speak at least a bit of German and could help him finding the office, and… Well, yes, keeping an eye on him might have been another reason. Still, it wouldn't hurt anyone if she had a coffee and chatted a little with someone – someone who had nothing to do with werewolves and curses, her mind supplied – while Gabriel was trying to get some useful info about the Lycaeonia curse out of that von Kiefer person, right?

"Grace?" she heard Georg calling out a tad hesitantly.

"Sorry, I was looking for something," she lied quickly, then, "Yes, I'd love to."

_Wrong answer. Oh well. It happens to the best of us._

"Great," Georg said, sounding both glad and somewhat relieved. "Around what time?"

"How about ten in the morning? Just enough time for Gab- my employer to meet the professor he needs to speak to. Guess it won't hurt if I wait for him to be done at the bar near the entrance."

"Sounds perfect to me. What does he need information about? I could see if I can-"

"I don't think it's your field, unless you're into Roma folklore."

"Oh. No, I'm not," Georg laughed a little. "Not my field at all. Is he working on a new book?"

Grace couldn't help but think for the millionth time what a convenient cover it was for Gabriel being a writer when it came to asking people of the weirdest stuff. "Yeah, exactly," she said, and she was about to add something else when someone knocked at the door of the library. She turned to see Gerde walking in, looking a little agitated.

"There is someone here to see Gabriel," she said. "He says he knows you, too. One Mosely…?"

"Mosely?" Grace blurted out in disbelief.

"Uh… what?" Georg's voice came from the receiver.

"Nothing, I… sorry, I have to go."

"Oh, alright. So, see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, of course. See you," Grace said quickly before hanging the phone and turning to Gerde. "Mosely? What is he doing here?"

Gerde shook her head. "I have no idea. He says he's Gabriel's friend - perhaps I shouldn't have let him in…?"

"No, no, he  _is_ ," Grace reassured her, quickly getting up from the desk and heading downstairs. "I just didn't expect him to… what the  _hell_  is he doing here?"

* * *

As she walked back to her car, Elsa lit herself another cigarette and thoughtfully glanced back at the  _gasthof._ If she had been suspicious before, now she was certain there was something wrong with that guy. He had lied to her on more than one point, she was sure of it. But as long as he kept sticking to the same tale he had given to the police, there was nothing more she could get out of him.

She was going to need to hear an account of what had happened that night from someone else, possibly from the other man who had been with him and her uncle out in the woods that night – Friedrich von Glower. And afterwards it probably wouldn't have hurt speaking to the other club members herself: they were there in the lodge, too, and as far as she was concerned any of them could have had a motive. She already knew form the police reports that her uncle was far from popular in that club in his last few months, and that some of its members owed him money.

But von Glower came first. Elsa got inside the car, reached to grab the phone she had installed on it and dialled a number. She took another drag from her cigarette as she waited.

"Hello?"

"Wilhelm, it's me."

"Oh, Elsa! How are you? It's been a while," was the reply, and Elsa could just picture him straightening himself and toying with his glasses as always when speaking to the phone. She smiled.

"I know, I've been busy. I'll make up for that. I need a favor," she said. She supposed etiquette would have required her to dance around the issue a little more, but she and Wilhelm went too far back to bother with such things.

"What is it about?"

"I need you to tell me where one Baron Friedrich von Glower lives. I know he has a residence in Munich. Can you do that?"

"Of course. I'll call you back once I have the address. Anything else?"

"Yes, just one more thing. I need the address of a club in Munich, too. The Royal Bavarian Hunting Lodge."

Wilhelm gave a low whistle. "Sounds pretentious. I'm on it. Since where are you interested in hunting?"

"Since when are you interested in my business?" she asked coldly, and she allowed herself to smirk and his sudden babbling. "Don't fret, Luitpold. I was just joking."

He seemed to give a sigh of relief before complaining. "You promised at least million times you wouldn't use that name."

"And you always promised you'd learn how to tie your cravat by yourself," she retorted. "But if you find me these addresses, I might consider keeping my promise for the next… two weeks."

"Thee weeks."

"If you're fast enough."

Wilhelm laughed. "You'll have them both before you know it. But what's up with the hunting lodge?"

Elsa's smile disappeared. "It's the hunting lodge my uncle was into. He went out hunting for the last time with its members."

"Ah," his voice seemed to lose some of the cheerfulness as well. "Elsa, you're not… up to anything dangerous, are you?"

_I'd really like to know what, too._

"You know me. What's your guess?" she said, leaning back in the seat and glancing at the church outside. There was a man standing outside it who was staring at her intently, a frown on his face. Friendly people, the people of Rittersberg, she thought while barely listening to Wilhelm worried blabbering for a few moments. "Okay, enough. No need to worry, I'm not stupid. I just want to find out something more about the circumstances. Ask some questions," she added.

_If I told you I'm on it because of a dream, you'd think I'm crazy. I can't even claim I'm not while keeping a straight face myself. Why am I even doing this?_

Well, that wasn't even a question now, was it? She was trying to find out more about what had happened to Garr von Zell because if she didn't try, nobody else would. And she was on to something. She just knew it.

"It still sounds like a hard nut to crack," Wilhelm was saying from the other side of the line.

"Don't worry, I have good teeth. So, can you get me what I need?"

"I… sure."

"Perfect. You're priceless," she said with some cruel amusement, knowing exactly what his reaction would be, then she smiled as she heard his embarrassing babblings coming from the receiver. "I have to go now. Thanks."

He finally managed to stop babbling to say something that made sense. "Be careful, Elsa."

"Don't worry, I will."

* * *

"… What the hell is he doing here?"

Mosely frowned as he heard Grace's unmistakable voice coming from upstairs, followed by her steps down the staircase. "Well, you sure know how to make a guy feel appreciated," he complained as he finally saw her. "How about 'thanks for worrying about me and that jackass disappearing and going through the trouble of coming over to check'?"

Grace was still staring at him as if he were an alien, but she seemed to recoil a little at his complaint. "We didn't disappear, we were just… busy."

"Yeah, so busy that you couldn't even answer to the phone," he glanced at Gerde a little accusingly, and Grace followed his gaze.

Gerde seemed a little embarrassed. "It was my fault, I'm sorry," she said apologetically, turning to look at Grace. "He called when neither you or Gabriel where at the castle, and another time after… well… with what was going on, I forgot to tell you, and then the phone company cut off the phone because I forgot to pay the bills."

Well, that explained a lot. Grace hadn't even thought about it, taken by that whole mess as she was, but it was no wonder that to the outside world it had to seem like she and Gabriel had gone missing. "It's okay. There was a lot going on," she reassured her.

"Wait a minute!" Mosely protested. "Does that mean I came all the way from the States for some unpaid phone bills?  _Really_? And here I thought you where in trouble," he groaned. "Where's that loafer anyway? If he wasn't in trouble before, he sure in trouble now, and- what?" he asked as he noticed the glance Grace and Gerde were exchanging.

"Are you sure…?" Gerde asked, as if Grace had just spoken to her.

"He can be trusted. He helped us out with the previous case – he knows of this whole Schattenjäger thing," Grace replied.

Mosely blinked. "… Wait. Previous case? You mean the voodoo murders? You have  _another_  case going on?" he asked. Fine, so maybe he hadn't travelled all the way to Germany for nothing after all. But where was Gabriel now? "Where is Gabriel?"

"He's down in Rittersberg, he'll be back soon. He's fine," Grace snorted. "Unless you count being a werewolf as a disease, and I kind of do."

Mosely stared. "Wait, wait. Were… what?"

"Yes, would you  _believe_  it?" Grace exploded. "That idiot! He knows so well what he has to do to get rid of it, but he just decided to be best buddies with his alpha werewolf. And he left it loose in the castle like-!"

Mosely opened his mouth, but it took him a few moments to work his jaw properly. "Werewolf loose in the castle? Grace, what the hell-"

"The Black Wolf, the  _baron_ ," she spat out the last word, and it occurred to Mosely that she wasn't even trying to explain anything to him – she was mainly rambling to herself about something stupid Gabriel had to have done, probably knowing that he'd agree with her. But really… werewolves?

"Grace…"

"I have no idea what the hell is wrong with him! After all we did to set him free from this curse, and after I had to let Ludwig down to help him, he still refuses! We have this other plan that isn't really a plan at all, and as usual he has no idea what to do, and…!"

"Ludwig who?" Mosely tried again, desperate to make her start saying something that made the slightest amount of sense. He glanced at Gerde as if asking for help, but she was staring at Grace as well with a slightly worried look on her face.

"Ludwig II of Bavaria – they were lovers, and he bit him! So he came up with this trap in the theatre, but it didn't work and Gabriel will stay cursed if he doesn't kill him! And now he won't do that! I'm not sure what drug they gave him in that fancy hunting gay club, but-"

Fine, that was it. He had been a cop for years and he could take a lot of shit. After that mess with the voodoo murders he liked to think he could take shit about supernatural stuff as well – hell, he had witnessed that kind of stuff – and no matter how confusing and random that sudden talk about werewolves was, he knew he could take that as well once Grace calmed down enough to explain.

But there was one thing that was beyond his mind's comprehension, and that was the mere thought of putting the words 'gay club' in any sentence referring to  _Gabriel Knight_. Mosely shut his eyes and drew in a deep breath.

In his room upstairs von Glower – who was reading Gabriel's novel with extreme interest now that it had become clear that it had to be autobiographic – winced visibly and almost dropped the book as a painfully loud scream suddenly reached his sensitive ears.

"WOULD YOU TWO PLEASE TELL ME ALL THE BULLSHIT AT ONCE INSTEAD OF THROWING ME FUCKING BITS OF INFO?"


	8. Ruvanush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't realized it had been so long since I posted a chapter - sorry for the wait. I'll try to keep the updates regular from now on.

Gabriel knew he'd have to reply to a lot of questions once back in Schloss Ritter. He had fully expected to see Grace standing in front of him the moment he opened the door to ask him what that Elsa knew and didn't know, and how dangerous for them he thought she could be. That was why he began speaking the moment he pushed the front door open to walk in.

"Well, she's about as nice to deal with as a Rottweiler with PMS, but aside from that-" he began, but he was immediately cut off by something akin to a roar – "KNIGHT!" – and by someone roughly grabbing the collar of his shirt and shaking him while a very familiar voice pretty much snarled at him.

"What the fuck did you get yourself into, you idiot? What the hell is it with werewolves? What kind of shit is this?"

"What the… Mose?" Gabriel blurted out as he saw who was shaking him. "The hell are you doin' here?"

"I'm asking questions here!" Mosely retorted, but he did stop shaking him, even though his hands were still clutching tightly the collar of his shirt. "Tell me what the heck have you been up to!"

"I tried to explain," Grace said a little – a  _little_  – apologetically from behind Mosely, Gerde staring wide-eyed at the scene from beside her. "But looks like he wants to hear the whole thing from you," she added, and Gabriel faintly wondered how much of an idiot she had made him out to be in her version. Not that he could say he didn't deserve it at least a little bit.

"Okay, okay," he wheezed. "I'll explain. But let me breathe first, Mostly!"

Mosely grimaced, but eventually let him go. "We've got to discuss about that damned nickname sometime, Knight. And of that detective Mostly from your novel. You asshole."

Gabriel grinned a little sheepishly. "Hey, be glad I gave him any part at all! Besides, you gotta admit that-"

"Your  _explanations_ , Knight."

"Oh, right. How do I start?" Gabriel muttered, frowning a little. "Well, it started out with the villagers coming up here to ask me to look into a little girl's death…"

Apparently, Gabriel was to get yet another surprise that day: he had fully expected Mosely to interrupt him at least a million times or to downright ask him if he hit his head, but apparently their earlier experience with the voodoo cult and… whatever Grace had told him had been enough to convince him there was a chance he wasn't babbling nonsense. He said nothing at all as Gabriel told him about the murders, about the Black Wolf, about Ludwig, about the hunting club, about von Zell, about von Glower, about what had happened the night he had been bitten, about the plan Ludwig had cooked up and how they had tried to put it in action.

Even Grace was nice enough not to interrupt, even though her gaze darkened any time von Glower or Ludwig were mentioned – and when Gabriel got to the point where their plan had gone wrong and how he couldn't bring himself to kill von Glower, she was actually scowling. Still, she didn't interrupt. Gabriel felt kind of grateful to her for that. He really didn't want to have to dwell on that in front of Mosely.

"… So now we've got to figure out another way to lift the curse – from me, and from Ludwig," Gabriel finished. "Possibly without slaughter being involved. We have an appointment with some expert who could tells us… oh, wait. We do have an appointment, right?" he asked, turning to Grace.

"Yes. Tomorrow morning. Which means it would be great if you got up before noon."

"Oh, great. You're the best, Gracie," he said. "So, if this guy can tell us… you don't look so good, Mose," he commented, and truth be told Mosely's skin was of a rather unhealthy ashen color. "Want a drink?"

"Make it two," Mosely croaked. "Are you telling me you're a fucking werewolf  _right now_?"

"Well, yeah. But full moon is a week or so away, so breathe," he joked before turning a little more serious. "Look, this is only temporary anyway. I kinda hope I'll get rid of it before-"

"And you've got another werewolf loose in the castle? One that bites people?" Mosely blurted out, cutting him off. He glanced around warily, and he looked so damn scared Gabriel was reminded of when they had met in the voodoo hounfour.

Grace nodded. "Yeah, exactly. That's what I meant when I said he lost his mind," she muttered, gaining herself an almost desperate glance from Gabriel.

"Relax, Mose, he isn't going to bite anyone's ass. Especially not yours. Hell, it's a companion he's looking for, and I doubt he's desperate enough to get stuck with you for eternity," Gabriel pointed out.

Mosely gave an exasperated groan. "Will you  _quit it_ , Knight? I'm serious! What if-"

"Rest assured, I have no intention of biting anyone – which includes you, though certainly not because I have anything against you," a collected voice came from the stairs. Mosely turned to glance to the voice's owner so quickly that Gabriel almost expected his neck to crack, and Grace scowled.

"How long have you been listening?" she asked coldly.

"For a few minutes," von Glower said. "My apologies, I didn't mean to eavesdrop. But I couldn't keep myself from hearing you."

"Couldn't keep yourself?" Grace repeated sceptically.

Von Glower nodded, stepping downstairs. "I'm afraid so. My hearing is quite developed, you see."

"Besides, Mosely here was yelling so much that I wouldn't be surprised if the whole town heard him," Gabriel commented, trying to lighten up the mood, but he couldn't help but wonder just how sensitive his hearing was, how sensitive his own hearing would become should he stay a werewolf a little longer. It sure was one useful side effect.

Mosely seemed to recoil upon hearing his name and took a step back, away from von Glower. "Is that him? The black wolf?" he asked aloud.

"Yeah. Friedrich, this is an old friend of mine. Franklin Mosely. We can trust him. Mose, this is Friedrich von… nah, wait, gotta get this right. Baron Friedrich von Glower."

Von Glower chuckled. "You can leave out the title, I'm not so stuffy. It's my pleasure to meet you," he said, giving Mosely a nod.

"Uh…" Mosely muttered, his brain apparently having some trouble to catch up with the fact a darn  _werewolf_  had just politely told him he was pleased to meet him. "I guess… nice to meet you?" he finally finished. From the other side of the room Grace scoffed a little, but she didn't say anything. Gabriel was pretty sure she still couldn't get over what von Glower had done to Ludwig – honestly, it had been pretty bad – and the fact she had to let him down in the end, but he hoped she would chill a little once they learned of another way to lift the curse from both Ludwig's soul and himself. Given that there was a way, but he really wanted to be optimistic.

"So, what are you doing here?" he asked, hoping to change subject and make Mosely stop looking like he just saw a ghost. It seemed to work, for he immediately frowned and some colour made it back on his face.

"What do you think I'm here for? To make sure you're fine, you loafer!" he grumbled. "You just disappeared for months and I had no way to know in what kind of mess you got yourself into! Just fell off the face of Earth!"

"Oh. Yeah," Gabriel grinned a little sheepishly. "Well, now you know. When are you getting back to the States? Okay, okay, just kidding," he added quickly as Mosely's left eye twitched a little. "Glad you could come and stuff, really. Hey, Gerde, do we have a guest room?"

Gerde, who hadn't spoken up to that moment, nodded. "Yes, there is another one we managed to fix. It's a little small, though," she added somewhat apologetically, turning to Mosely.

He shrugged. "Can't be smaller than my own hole. I'm, uh… sorry for yelling at you earlier," he added, scratching the back of his head.

Gerde chuckled a little. "It's quite alright, it's no wonder you were unsettled. I'll lead you to your room."

"Sounds fine," he said, reaching to pick up his suitcase. Gabriel figured he really needed to be alone for at least a few minutes so that he could digest all that he had just learned in peace. "See you… for dinner or something?" he asked, turning to Gabriel and Grace.

Gabriel shrugged. "Sure. We could have a drink after that so that I can fill you in a little better, too."

"That doesn't sound too bad," was Mosely's reply, probably mainly referring to the drink part, before he nervously glanced at von Glower. "And… guess I'll see you around here too."

"Not for long, I hope," Grace muttered, more to herself than to anyone else.

Von Glower didn't give any sign of having heard her – but he certainly had – and just nodded at Mosely. "It is most likely, yes," he said, and Mosely just nodded quickly before following Gerde upstairs. Gabriel couldn't tell if it was because his hearing was growing better or because Mosely wasn't keeping his voice low enough, but he was pretty sure he heard him worriedly asking Gerde if his room could be locked from inside. A few moments of silence followed in the front hall.

"I should get going. I told the Smiths I'd drop by as soon as we had something resembling to a plan," Grace finally said stiffly, only looking at Gabriel before walking to the door and then outside before Gabriel could even tell her he had had a word with them already. Not that it would have served any purpose since he was pretty sure she would have just thought up another excuse to leave the room as long as von Glower was in it.

Once they were alone, he sighed. "You know, Mose isn't too bad. He just has to get used to this and stuff, and I bet he will soon. And Grace, well, I'm sorry she isn't-"

"No need to be sorry, Gabriel. She isn't wrong – she has quite a lot of valid reasons to despise me," von Glower simply said. "And having to give up on helping Ludwig… it must have been hard," he added, the shadow of a pained grimace showing on his face for just a moment.

Well, that was a point Gabriel couldn't argue. "Hey, enough with that. I'm sure we'll find a way out for him, too."

Von Glower smiled faintly. "I have to thank you for getting through the trouble, Gabriel. I know it wouldn't change much for you whether his soul is freed or not."

Gabriel shrugged. "Well, it really matters to Gracie. And it would be sucky of me not trying to help him out. It matters to you too, doesn't it?"

"Oh, yes. You have no idea," von Glower smiled a little bitterly before turning serious once more. "May I ask you a favor, Gabriel?"

"Sure. Spit it out."

"If you do find a way to bring Ludwig's soul to peace by lifting the curse… I know I'm asking much, but I would be immensely grateful if you could attempt to do the same for von Zell's."

The request caught him off guard. To be honest, aside when speaking to that Elsa – now that he thought about it, Mosely's arrival had made the whole thing slip off their mind, so he was going to have to fill up Gracie later – he hadn't even thought much of von Zell, let alone of the fate of his soul. Actually, according to the book about lycanthropes he had found in the library, that asshole was supposed to have gotten a one-way ticket for hell, having tasted human blood and all. Then again, there were some things – such as the Talisman not hurting von Glower or himself like it was supposed to – that made him wonder how much truth there was in that, if the book could be wrong on some things. It wasn't like whoever wrote it actually got to see how afterlife worked, right?

After all, trying wouldn't hurt anyone. Fine, von Zell was an asshole, but his insanity had been caused by the curse, and to be honest Gabriel didn't think anyone deserved to wander without rest forever like Ludwig had to until now. Besides, the thought of having his… ghost or whatever lingering anywhere near the world of the living while he was in it wasn't really pleasant. "Sure," he finally said. "No problem."

Von Glower smiled gratefully. "Thank you," he said. "Speaking of him, you haven't yet had a chance to tell anyone how the meeting with his niece went."

"Oh. That," Gabriel muttered with a grimace. "It was like dealing with a Rottweiler with PMS. But she really doesn't seem to know anything much. Though… the Smiths said she behaved a little oddly. Like a caged animal, they said. And she kept chewing on steaks and sausages."

Von Glower frowned. "Did she?"

"So they said. I… remember being hungry as fuck after I had just been, you know, bitten," Gabriel shifted a little uncomfortably. "So you think…?"

"I'm not sure. Something doesn't quite make sense," von Glower said, rubbing his chin in thought. "She seems in good health, while those at the very first stages of dealing with the Blood not only are hungry, but also feel very sick – as you could experience yourself. Besides, if she were a werewolf… she wouldn't behave in any way that could arise any suspect, as she did."

Well, that was a good point. "You're right. She didn't seem at all worried of anything I could think. Also, Mrs. Smith seems to think that she might be just a, how did she say? Troubled soul. Not a cursed one."

"Yes, everything seems to indicate the Blood was not passed to her; Garr had no reason to, after all," von Glower said with a nod. "But do tell me, are you sure she doesn't know anything?"

"She seems to suspect something went differently from how it was officially reported. She kept pressing on stuff like the fact there weren't any missing clothes or rifles from von Zell's room even though he was out hunting, and I really couldn't think of anything to retort to that. But that's all she has, and the police settled for the hunting incident, maybe with one of the zoo wolves being involved. I don't think she can do much. The most she can do is poking around, but I don't think there is much she can find out."

Von Glower seemed relieved. "I see," he said before changing subject. "I've been reading your book in my room. I've just finished it. You certainly have a way with words even while writing," he said with a chuckle.

Gabriel shifted a little, feeling a tad uncomfortable; there was no way he hadn't realized the truth behind that novel. "You did? Oh. Great. Glad you liked it."

"It was a quite interesting read," von Glower stated with a nod before staring straight in Gabriel's eyes. "It is autobiographic, isn't it?"

_He didn't even try to be subtle, uh? Oh well. Neither did I in that novel._

"Damn, you got me," he said, managing to smirk a little. "Mostly would be Mosely, by the way. He ain't too happy about it."

"I see," von Glower's lips curled into an amused smile before he spoke again. "How close…?"

Gabriel sighed. "As close as it can get. Aside form the part where I have sex with Fujitsu. Which would be Grace. We didn't. And she almost cut my head off when she found out I put that in the book," he grinned again, and von Glower actually chuckled.

"That's not quite what I meant, but I have to say it is something I should have expected from you," he turned serious again. "I am sorry for your loss," he said quietly. Gabriel's grin faded.

_Malia_.

"Thanks," he finally said. "It's been over a year now, and I'm doing fine, but…" he paused, than he dismissively waved his hand. "Well, thanks," he repeated, somewhat worried that von Glower would ask him if he wanted to talk about it like von Glower himself had told him about Ludwig – and to be honest he was almost tempted, but he also didn't feel like it – but he didn't add anything else on the subject, something Gabriel felt oddly grateful for. "Say, are you hungry? It's lunchtime already. I could ask Gerde to cook us up something. I still owe you a dinner. And, well, a pretty good night with that Detta. But I'm not sure I could ask Grace or Gerde to do the same. Totally not Grace. And I think Mose would have a heart attack if I asked him to do something like that."

Von Glower couldn't hold back a laugh. "The lunch will do just fine," he said, still chuckling.

A part of Gabriel's mind just had to take notice of how bright his eyes got any time he laughed.

* * *

Elsa's mood was nowhere near  _bright_  that evening as she walked back to her car, barely turning to glance back at the residence she had just left. Not that she had actually been there – she could only stand in front of the door as von Glower's butler informed her that the baron wasn't home, and that he had recently called to say he might have to stay away for several days. No, the butler had told her, he had no idea where the baron could possibly be.

Elsa had tried to stay as calm as she could, since there would be no point taking her frustration on him – the poor guy had been polite and had actually asked her if she wished to leave her number so that von Glower could call her back if so inclined once he was back, something she had declined – and to be fair, the fact she still had the hunt club to look into did help her to keep her nerves in check. She was going to check there first and talk to all the members she could meet; then she would try to speak to von Glower again, she decided as she started the engine.

She had no idea how willing to talk they would be and it wasn't like she had any authority to make them tell her the truth about anything – they could really have nothing to do with anything – but it was worth a try. After all, they were there during Garr von Zell's last hunting trip; she had to at least meet them, if anything to see what kind of people they were and what kind of atmosphere there was in that club.

But it was too late to go now. She would be there the next evening – right now she was tired and frustrated and angry, and she might have not been able to control her nerves as well as she probably was going to have to in order to deal with the members of that fancy club thing. She needed a good night's sleep first.

And dammit, she was hungry  _again_.

* * *

"Grace's not so happy with the deal, uh?" Mosely said over breakfast as soon as Grace got out of earshot.

Gabriel shook his head. "Not really, no. That's kind of the reason why Friedrich has to stay in his room most of the time – not to protect any of us, but to protect  _him_  from Grace," he said with a slightly forced chuckle.

"Is that so?" Mosely looked curious. He took another mouthful of eggs before speaking again. "Why? Okay, I can get being wary and stuff and he bit you, but…  _you_  should be the one to want his blood the most."

"That's kind of the problem," Gabriel admitted. He was supposed to give Mosely some extra explanations the previous night, when they met to drink something after dinner alone, but his old friend had probably decided he had heard enough for the day: they had only spoken about old times, taunted each other, and Mosely had brought some news from New Orleans. Mosely looked like he desperately needed to juts speak of  _normal_  stuff for a change, and Gabriel couldn't say he minded. He had felt that same need for a while, really, and speaking of old stuff felt soothing. It made him glad good old Mose was there: it was rather refreshing talking about it to someone who wouldn't flat out tell him he had been a complete idiot.

"I only grasped that it has something to do with what he did to the mad king. Ludwig something."

"It has everything to do with him. Friedrich didn't mean for things to go that way, but now Ludwig is bound to this world until the curse is lifted, and one way to do it would have been having the alpha werewolf killed. Von Glower. Ludwig died before that could happen, but what matters is that he has a hand in his death, even from beyond the grave. He had this scheme, the one in the theatre we told you about. Gracie found out about it and we decided to put it in action – it was Ludwig's plan, and if I helped along we would both have had a role in it, and we'd have been free. The point being that von Glower had to die that night in the theatre."

"And then something went wrong, eh? Go figure. Got back home with your tail between your legs, eh?"

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Shut up, Mose."

"So, I think you said yesterday that when the trap didn't work, Grace had to…?"

"To pick between helping me or Ludwig, yeah. You know what her pick was, but saving Ludwig meant a lot to her. What happened to him sucked and she  _so_  wanted to help him. Must have not been easy for her to let him down for me. And then what happens? It happens that  _now_  I won't kill the alpha werewolf, even though it seems to be the only way out, and she gave up on Ludwig for nothing."

Mosely gave a whistle. "Well, no wonder she's pissed," he said. "But it's  _not_  the only way out, right?"

"That's what I hope to hear from the guy I'm going to talk with. Speaking of which, I should get ready to go," he got up and paused. "I need a favor, Mose."

Mosely made a face. "You wouldn't deserve it, Knight. But since I made it all the way to Sauerkraut Land, guess I can at least do  _something_. Spit it out."

"Grace is not the only one who doesn't think von Glower should be breathing."

"Yeah? Who else does? Gerde?"

"Roughly the whole town. You, uh… brought your gun, yes?"

Mosely groaned and put a hand on his eyes. "And here I thought the mess you got yourself into couldn't get any worse," he muttered. "Do you think they could do something like, say, attack the goddamn castle to skin the darn werewolf with their hands while you're off to Munich?"

"That's a possibility. Hope they won't, but you know. They weren't really happy about him being still alive and stuff, even if he's  _not_  the one who went and slaughtered people. Gerde says they're growing impatient."

Mosely didn't seem to like the thought at all, but he nodded. "Okay, I'll do what I can. Not that I've got much of a chance – they kill him, and you wave goodbye to any chance to get back to normal, I guess."

Gabriel nodded. "Thanks, Mose. Guess I'll thank you by making Mostly's role more important in my next novel," he said a grin, before walking to the door.

"Remember that I brought my gun, smartass," Mosely grumbled. "I've got just a question, Knight."

Gabriel stopped and turned to glance at him. "What?"

"Why won't you kill him? I mean, nothing against the guy, really, but… you were ready to do it, right? And it may be your only way out."

There was a moment's silence, then Gabriel looked at him with an oddly haunted expression. "I don't like the killing part. I'd like to avoid it," he said, and for a moment Mosely was reminded of the expression on his face after Malia Gedde's death. "Ever killed someone who actually meant no harm to anyone, Mose?"

Mosely frowned. "Knight, you didn't kill her. She… decided to end it all. You only tried to help."

Gabriel nodded. "And it's what I'm trying to do now as well. Not sure  _how_  and I'll probably fail, but… one's got to try, right?" he smirked a bit. "Like you always try to force yourself into a diet knowing you'll probably fail," he added, and he was still smirking as he left the room, shutting the door on Mosely's protests.

* * *

"Okay, let me get this straight – you've got a  _date_  and didn't tell me? I'm wounded, Gracie, I really am," Gabriel muttered, resting his hand over his heart in mock hurt.

For the fourth time, Grace rolled her eyes, her grip on the wheel tightening a little. "Gabriel, we're having a coffee or something together. He may not know it, but he helped us a lot. And we'll just sit there and chat until you're done with this von Kiefer guy – better that waiting standing in front of his office, right?"

"Right. But I could have gone alone, you know," he said innocently.

"And make me wait for you to make it back to Rittersberg before I could get to know the verdict? Forget it," she said. "You and the big bad wolf had better hope there really  _is_  another way."

"Well, we're here to find out. Where can I find you and your boyfriend when I'm do- ow!" Gabriel yelped as Grace slammed the brakes, causing him – he wasn't wearing the safety belt, he never did – to be thrown on the dashboard. "Watch it!"

"Here we are," Grace said innocently, nodding towards the entrance and completely ignoring Gabriel's mutters. "Get down and look for von Kiefer's office, I'll park the car. See you at the bar over there once you're done," she added as Gabriel climbed down. He made a face at her before shutting the door and turning to walk inside the building right in front of him, pressing his hand on his forehead. He could already feel a bump forming under his fingers.

Well, great. He was going to have to interview the Roma folklore expert while looking like he had just gotten a beating. Awesome. Thank you so much, Gracie, he thought with a snort before walking inside.

His pretty much non-existent German skills made finding the guy's office harder than he had anticipated; that place was pretty big, and he couldn't exactly ask for directions… or understand any directions he was given. Thankfully, one student who understood English saved him by actually escorting right in front of von Kiefer's study. He thanked the kid with one of the… five or six German words he knew, and knocked.

"Kommen Sie bitte rein!" a man's voice came from inside. Well, the last couple of words were lost to Gabriel, but he could guess he had just been told to come in. He opened the door to find himself in a much more impersonal and somewhat  _sterile_  study than what he could have expected from an expert any kind of folklore: the walls were white with just a few framed papers on them, and in the middle of the room was a large desk with a few frames on it – but he couldn't see the picture. Sitting on a high leather seat, but in the act of getting up to greet him, was a rather short, thin man with dark hair and a pale complexion. If that was von Kiefer, he sure made him think more of folklore than his study did: he looked like your average vampire, just nowhere as handsome.

He was, however, much friendlier than Klingmann had been months earlier. "Mr. Knight, isn't it? Pleased to meet you," he said in a tickly accented English. "Do have a seat."

"Thanks. Hope I'm not bothering, professor," Gabriel said, reaching to shake his hand before sitting down. "I know my request was a bit sudden…"

"It was no trouble at all," he was immediately reassured. "Do you wish something to drink? Some coffee, perhaps? I believe my assistant hasn't gone home yet."

"No, I'm fine. But thanks."

"Very well then, let's go straight to the point, ja?" he said, leaning back on his seat. "I seem to recall you needed some information on a curse in particular for a book you're planning to write, is that correct?"

Gabriel nodded. "Yeah. Uh… would you mind if I recorded the conversation? My memory isn't that great, and I don't know if I could make notes quickly enough. Wouldn't want to miss something crucial."

"Of course, go ahead," von Kiefer replied, and Gabriel noticed he seemed almost giddy. He had to be one of those who love it when people wanted to listen carefully to anything they have to say. "Do tell me, what is it you're exactly researching about?"

Gabriel placed his recorder on the desk before speaking. "The book would be about lycanthropes – one guy gets cursed, and passes it down to his son, who tries to turn other people into werewolves to create a… a pack, or something. I was planning on having this first guy to be cursed by a gypsy, you see, for some crap he did. I read of this curse that turns people into lycanthropes – the Lycaeonia curse – and… I wanted some more info on it. How it works, you know."

"I see," von Kiefer reached to rub his short beard thoughtfully. "Do tell me, when would this curse be cast on the man? In what period of time?"

It took Gabriel a moment to remember. "Around 1750, probably not sooner than 1740."

"I see. I think I do know what curse you're referring to. The name you used… it is a way to call it. Though of course, no Roma back then would have referred to it as the Lycaeonia curse. That name actually comes from the greek word for wolf, λύκος. The legend as we know it through Ovid's Metamorphoses is that one king of Arcadia, Lycaon, angered Zeus by trying to have him feast on the flesh of his own child during a banquet and was thus punished by being turned into a wolf – his namesake, you see, for he proved himself to be as bestial as his name told, and… oh, I my, here I go rambling," he chuckled. "My apologies. It is not an explanation on why it's called that way you wanted, is it? You asked about the curse of the Ruvanush."

"Uh… yeah, guess so. So the curse of the Ruvanush is the same as the Lycaeonia curse, right?"

"Exactly; the only difference is in the name. You see,  _ruvanush_  is a Romani word made of two words – ruv and manush, wolf and man. Literally, it means wolfman," he leant back on his seat, his complexion looking even paler against the black leather seat. "In most legends, a witch can turn someone born under a crescent moon into a ruvanush by drinking their blood; something very common in a lot of myths, though usually the ones involving vampirism. Of course, there are variations on how the curse was set on the victim, but the result doesn't change: the victim would become a ruvanush."

"Ah," Gabriel cleared his throat. "And… he would become a werewolf, right? Grow fur and fangs and stuff?"

"Yes, he would become a wolf, quite literally. A ruvanush would behave normally in front of other people once back in their human form, of course, but their nature wouldn't be always easy to hide. As the legend goes, they would be repelled by anything holy, and in the middle age wasn't easy not being exposed to holy objects. Same goes for later: there is a tale about a woman ruvanush in 1870 who was literally consumed when sprayed with holy water."

"Ouch," Gabriel made a face he hoped would be amusing, but he wasn't amused at all himself.

"Ouch is probably the best way to put it," von Kiefer chuckled. "And of course, there is the variation in which one ruvanush, or werewolf, can pass down the curse to their offspring, or to others through its bite; this last variation is, as you might have noticed, the most popular. And of course, the soul of a ruvanush who dies as such would never be able to leave this world for good. Is any of this of any help for your book?"

Gabriel immediately nodded. "Oh, yeah. Just dandy. I mean, it's great," he corrected himself as he noticed the puzzled expression on the other man's face. "Fits right in the plot I had in mind, really."

Von Kiefer seemed glad to know that. "Well, I'm glad I'm helping," he said. "Is there anything else you need to know more specifically?"

Well, Gabriel thought, that was it. "Is there a way to undo the curse?"

"Oh, yes. In some variations of the legend, the curse of the Ruvanush – or Lycaeonia curse, as you prefer – can be undone, usually by killing the witch who set the curse on the victim or, in case the victim was bitten by another ruvanush, by killing the source of the tainted blood."

So far, Gabriel thought, so good. He already knew that much. Too bad he wasn't going to follow that course of action, unless there really, really wasn't any other way or… or… well, he wasn't going to follow that course of action, period. "And is there any other way?"

"Another way?"

"Uh… yeah. You see, I'll have this character in the book who'll have to undo the curse and… couldn't possibly get to kill the one who cursed them. Does any legend mention any other way?" he asked, trying to ignore the way his heart kept pounding somewhere in his throat. His hands clenched into fists.

"Hmm…" von Kiefer frowned a little in thought before speaking again. "Yes and no, I guess."

"Yes and no?" Gabriel repeated, feeling as tough his insides had just tied into a knot.

"As I mentioned, a werewolf's soul stays chained to this world if they die as one…"

"Yeah, that much I had gathered."

"There is actually a way for the deceased's soul to be freed. It involves a ritual."

Well, at least that was going to be useful for Ludwig – he did promised Grace and Friedrich he would help him out as well. And von Zell, too. "What kind of ritual?"

"As you probably know, the only way to kill a werewolf is believed to be through the destruction of the heart and brain, other than death by the elements."

"Death by elements?"

"A werewolf can also be killed by being burnt, drowned or buried alive," von Kiefer explained, and Gabriel shuddered a bit – it had occurred to him that explained why Ludwig had chosen to kill himself by drowning.

"Hu-uh. Nice. Think I'd pick a bullet in the brain," Gabriel commented, trying to sound amused, but he could feel his hair standing on his neck at the thought.

Von Kiefer chuckled. "I think that would be most people's pick, yes. In any case, it's the first way that interests us – the destruction of the heart or brain. The first in particular is due to the fact the heart was, for the longest time, held as the actual residence of one's soul. It still is, in a poetic way. And since it was the werewolf's blood that was tainted, it also tainted the heart and thus the soul. That's why the ritual to free a werewolf's soul mainly involves the cursed one's heart, and blood."

"Blood?" Gabriel repeated. It was a stroke of luck that Ludwig had his heart preserved in Altötting; if Grace could get the diagram from the urn, they could get the heart out of it as well. But what about the blood…?

"Oh, I'm not talking about the cursed one's blood, of course," von Kiefer said. "Someone else's blood would be needed, blood never touched by the curse and willingly given. And this someone had to be related by blood of the cursed one."

Gabriel had to hold back from swearing under his breath. How the fuck were they supposed to find a relative of someone who had died more than a century earlier? "How closely related?" he asked. "One of those… who have to be set free and stuff had been dead for a while."

"That's doesn't have to be an issue. Any relative within seven generations should be fine, if my memory serves me right."

Well, maybe that could help. Maybe there were some people distantly related to Ludwig around, and they could find them; Gabriel decided not to focus on how the hell they could even get blood out of them yet. One problem at time. "Sounds fine. How does it work exactly?"

"I'm afraid the details are a little fuzzy," von Kiefer replied. " _C_ _ures_  are not my main field, I'm afraid. But I could give you the address of a, how should I say, practitioner. She has a rather, uh…  _different_  approach from the academic one, but I'm sure she could give you any information you need about this. Here," he handed him a small piece of paper he had been writing onto as he spoke.

"Great. Thanks a lot," Gabriel said as he took the piece of paper and put it in his pocket, trying not to think of when Dr. John had given him the address of Magentia Moonbeam back in New Orleans… then again, short and sickly pale as he was, von Kiefer looked nothing like the intimidating lump of muscle Dr. John had been. "I'll make sure to drop by. But, uh… what about the other cursed ones? You know, those who are alive and kickin'?"

"Killing the source of the tainted blood would be the only way out for those who still live, I'm afraid," von Kiefer said almost apologetically. "I don't suppose you could work your way around it in your novel? Perhaps by making the true source someone else but the individual you say cannot be killed?"

If only, Gabriel thought with an inward sigh. Oh well, there went that idea – the  _only_  idea. He tried to tell himself that he would find another way and ignored the sudden weight that seemed to have settled on his stomach as he stood up. "Yeah, sounds like a great idea. I'll do that," he said, taking his tape recorder back and reaching to shake the other man's hand. "Thanks a lot for your time, Professor. You helped a great deal."

Von Kiefer said something about being glad of having helped, but Gabriel wasn't listening. He was too busy trying to figure out how he was going to break the news to Grace.

* * *

Grace was able to spot him even before she set foot in the bar: he was right outside it, his hands in his pockets, but he didn't notice her until she walked up to him and called out. He was apparently too busy thoughtfully staring at his shoes while he shuffled his feet to look up.

"Hi, Georg."

He recoiled a little as he heard her calling his name. "Grace!" he exclaimed, immediately lifting his head and pulling his hands out of his pockets, but only one made it out at the first attempt – the other one stayed stuck in the pocket. He tried again and finally pulled it free, and Grace noticed his cheeks suddenly seemed a little pinker. She held back a chuckle.

"I hope you didn't have to wait for long. I'm on time, right?" she asked with a small frown, taking a look at her watch. Yes, it was ten on the dot.

Georg seemed a little embarrassed. "Oh, yes, you are. I happened to be here a few minutes earlier, that's all," he said before clearing his throat a little. "I'm glad you could make it."

Grace shrugged. "I'm glad I could dump Gab… my employer for a while. He's a handful," she said, a little amused by the fact Georg couldn't possibly imagine just  _how_  much of a handful he was being right now. A chat with someone who had nothing to do with werewolves and curses and shadow hunting was probably what she needed right now. It would soothe her nerves – and possibly keep her from driving herself crazy while she waited for Gabriel to come back with some answers. "How are you doing?" she asked as they walked inside.

He seemed a little more at ease, and smile. "Oh, really well. The Curse of Engelhart was such a success, and… my, I went from working part-time in that Wagner museum to pay for my studies to being asked to direct more and more operas. From unemployed composer to opera conductor. I can hardly believe it. It changed my life – I'll never thank you enough for… well, finding it first, and then asking me to direct it."

Grace shrugged as they leant on the counter. "Hey, you helped me finding it. And you did great."

Georg's ears were starting to turn bright pink, something Grace found a little amusing. "I… well, thank you. I do owe you," he said before turning to the man behind the counter. "Zweimal Kaffee, bitte," he said, only to pause just a moment afterwards, looking a little unsure. "You  _do_  want coffee, right? If not, I could ask-"

"No, it's okay," Grace said quickly before he began stuttering. "Coffe it is."

"Oh, good," Georg smiled again, apparently relaxing a little. "Do you wish to sit? There are some tables outside. I could ask to have the coffee brought to us."

"Sounds good."

Georg turned to say something more to the barman before they headed outside and seated at the closest table. Grace noticed he looked a little more at ease now, but his ears were still rather pink. It made her smile a little for some reason. "I'm glad to know you're doing so well," she finally said. "I take it your brother isn't mocking you about lost operas being for fools anymore, right?"

He laughed. "Oh, not at all. He actually was always fascinated with the lost Wagner opera and believed it existed. He wasn't too surprised when it turned out I helped finding it. He always believed in me."

Grace raised an eyebrow. "Did he?" she asked doubtfully.

"Oh, not at all. But he's one of the most important conductors for the Munich opera. He's got to look good in interviews," he said with a chuckle, but he didn't seem really bothered. "When he congratulated me, his teeth were so ground together that I could barely get what he was saying."

"Felt good, eh?" Grace asked.

"Oh, yes," Georg smiled, then he turned serious again. "I know if probably shouldn't feel so satisfied, but-"

"I think you should," she cut him off – she still remembered how his reaction when she had asked if he knew anything about the lost opera had been that of asking her if her brother has sent her to make fun of him and his foolish fantasies about lost operas. "You deserved to get him back. It must have burned – his little brother, the unemployed composer, directing the lost Wagner opera while he could just sit and brood," she pointed out, and Georg smiled, looking somewhat relieved.

"I suppose you're right," he said. "He was proud, to a degree. He really was. But yes, bet it did burn some."

A moment later the coffee was brought to their table. Grace reached for her purse, but Georg was quicker to pull out his wallet and pay the waiter. "It's on me," he said with that boyish smile of his. "Still not much in exchange of the chance of my life, but… it's a start, I guess?"

Grace smiled and reached for her cup. She added a bit of sugar and began stirring. "If you insist. But I insist on saying I wouldn't have found anything without your help. We helped each other out. So, to the lost opera?" she lifted her cup as if for a toast.

He nodded. "To the lost opera," he said, lifting his own cup briefly before taking a sip. "We should do this with beer sometime. It works better," he joked, putting the cup down.

Grace couldn't help but notice that this time he hadn't started worrying about the possibility he could have somewhat offended her in case she didn't feel like meeting again or having any beer. It looked like he was loosening a bit. "No doubt. But I'm not a beer expert, so I think I'll need your advice."

"Well, I'm not expert either, but I suppose I could try to give you some advice. Though I have to warn you, my way of picking my favorite kinds of beer is rather… unusual."

She raised an eyebrow. "Now I'm curious. What is it?"

"Well," he took another sip of coffee. "I would actually drink some beer, and then start composing."

"Composing?"

"Yes," he gave a somewhat sheepish smile and blushed, but just a little. "Then I took a look the next day. The oddest the music that came from it is, the better the beer has to be."

Grace – who was in the middle of taking a sip – gave a sudden laugh, thankfully managing not to spit out the coffee. "You really do that?"

"Yes." He shifted a little awkwardly and reached to rub the back of his neck, but he was still smiling. "As I said, it's unusual, but… amusing, I suppose."

"Yes, that it is. I'm curious to listen what the music that came out of it is like."

"I… actually think I still have some of the music sheets I used. I could show them to you and you could pick a beer based on the one you like the best," he suggested.

"Hey, you're forgetting I'm a history major, not a composer. I can't read music. You'd have to play them or something. Maybe you could slip them in the next opera you direct? Imagine everyone's faces."

The thought made him laugh. "I could consider it," he said, grinning a little. "But after that, I'm afraid I would have to leave Munich for good."

"Oh, good point," Grace pretended to be thoughtful. "On the other hand, you could slip the sheets in the libretto of some opera someone else will conduct. Like your brother."

This time Georg had to cover his mouth with his hand not to laugh too hard, and the laugh escaped through his nose in a painful-sounding honk. "Oh, my," he chuckled. "Don't tempt me."

Something in what he had just said amused her even more than the chat they were having – it wasn't often  _she_  was the one who tempted anyone to do anything. With Gabriel especially, she had always found herself having to play the guard dog; after the past frantic, emotionally draining few months it was kind of pleasant getting to relax and chat of some nonsense like she was doing now… and with someone who wasn't definitely going to try his hardest to wind up in trouble, to boot.

Grace was about to say something else, but she was cut off by a familiar voice calling her name. She turned to see Gabriel walking up to them with a grin pasted on his face – the fakest grin Grace had ever seen on his face, and man, hadn't she seen  _many_  of those.

"Did you get the information we needed?" she immediately asked as he approached.

His grin faltered just for a second. "Yes and no. But I've got good news for your friend," he reassured her before turning to Georg. "Georg Immerding, right? Nice to meet you in person, finally. Sorry I didn't show up when y'all guys were getting the opera ready, but I was sick for a while."

Georg immediately got up to take his hand, and hadn't she been too busy wondering what exactly Gabriel had found out that could help Ludwig – and what about  _himself_? – she would have noticed that for a moment he had almost looked disappointed by the fact he was back already. "I'm pleased to meet you as well, Mr. Knight," he said. "As I already told Miss Nakimura, I am very thankful for the opportunity you granted me."

"Hey, no problem. It was Grace to pick, really – you did great, by the way," he said, shaking his hand back.

"If you're done, we should probably get going," Grace spoke up, getting up from her seat – she wanted to know what Gabriel knew, and had to know it  _now_. Still, she turned to Georg. "We have a tight schedule today, I'm sorry. But maybe next time. With beer and the music sheets to pick," she added. She wasn't stupid and it was pretty clear that Georg didn't only ask to meet so that he could thank her, so she shouldn't even have mentioned a 'next time'. She  _really_  wasn't interested in anything like that and definitely not  _now_ , with all that was going on… but she had needed that break so much, and a few laughs could never hurt. She sure could allow herself some relax once all that mess had been dealt with after all. So they'd meet again after that. There, no harm done.

His gaze brightened, any trace of disappointment gone at the words 'next time'. "I'd love that."

Gabriel blinked. "Music sheets to pick beer? Is that something Germans do?"

Despite the need to know that gnawed at her, Grace couldn't help but chuckle a little. "I'll explain you as we go," she said, giving Georg a small nod before grabbing Gabriel's arm to drag him to the car.

* * *

The window of the guestroom von Glower was staying into wasn't open only to let some fresh air in – it was also open to allow his sensitive hearing to detect any noise that could announce him either Gabriel's arrival, or that of the people of Rittersberg. After overhearing Gerde's worried comments to Gabriel, von Glower had little doubt that they would soon grow impatient, that they would soon want the monster among them to be destroyed; wrongfully, they did not believe in Gabriel enough to trust his judgment alone.

So when his ears picked up a noise that he was quick to classify as the arrival of at least three dozen people on foot he was anything but surprised. Von Glower opened his eyes and sat up on the bed. For a brief moment he glanced at the window, but did not actually look outside – he knew that from his window the path leading from Rittersberg wasn't visible. He simply got up, straightened his clothes and headed downstairs.

He found Gerde and Gabriel's friend – Mosely, wasn't it? – not far from the end of the staircase, talking about Gabriel's chances to return to normal, neither of them noticing his presence until he spoke.

"I'm afraid we might be about to have some visitors."

Both Gerde and the man abruptly stopped talking to turn to him. "Visitors?" she asked worriedly.

"You should be able to see them from that window," von Glower said calmly. "Unless I'm mistaken it's at least three dozen men, probably carrying firearms – they most likely are here to spill my blood, after all."

Mosely stared at him with a few other moments before walking to the window to glance outside. He paled. "Oh, fuck," he muttered, reaching for his gun, and von Glower knew his assumption had been right.


	9. The Royal Bavarian Hunting Lodge

"Fuck. Fuck.  _Fuck_."

Despite his predicament, von Glower couldn't hold back a slightly amused chuckle as he watched Mosely walking back and forth in the living room, nervously shifting his gun from one hand to the other and cursing under his breath. He had actually cursed aloud at first, but then he had noticed how deathly pale Gerde was and had settled for whispering, maybe hoping she wouldn't notice how worried he was. Not that it helped in the slightest to make him look like he knew what he should do.

"You won't have to use that," Gerde was trying to reassure him, glancing worriedly at the gun he was fidgeting with. "They can be reasonable. I'll speak to them and-"

She was interrupted by a loud banging coming from the door that sounded nothing like just knocking. It looked like they weren't going to bother being reasonable after all, von Glower thought with an inward sigh. He wasn't scared, though, not nearly as much as he had always thought he would be should he face death one day. If anything, he mused, he was more likely to be shot rather than beheaded and burned, and his death wouldn't be as gruesome as his father's had been.

" _Speak_  to them?" Mosely was muttering. "As if!"

"I know them," Gerde was insisting. "If you let me-" she was interrupted by more banging and muffled shouts coming from outside. Mosely took a brief look outside form a window and scowled.

"Over my dead body," Mosely muttered, pulling out his gun. "Stay back, Ger- hey!" he protested as she snatched the gun from his hands.

"NO," she told him, holding the gun between two fingers as though she was afraid it could come alive and bite her. "I know the people who are there. Some of them are my relatives. They're not bad people, and they will not hurt me, or… or you," she added, avoiding to look in von Glower's direction. "I won't let them hurt anybody  _and_  I won't let anybody hurt them, unless… unless it's necessary."

Mosely seemed embarrassed. "Hey, I wasn't really going to… I wouldn't have shot… okay," he sighed. "Give me back the gun. I'll come with your outside. And I swear I won't do anything unless things get really ugly."

"Should things get, as you put it, really ugly, do not concern yourselves," von Glower spoke up, causing both of them to wince and turn to him. "It is me they want. Should you fail to reason with them, don't put your lives on line and let them through."

Gerde looked alarmed. "But if they kill you, Herr Knight…!" she began, but von Glower lifted his hand to interrupt her.

"No need to concern yourself. I'm confident I have a good chance to escape them. But I know Gabriel would never forgive himself should either of you die just to protect me, and him for extent," he said, and gave a weak smile. "I do believe someone's knocking," he added as someone hit the door once more with that sounded like the butt of a rifle.

Gerde paused for a moment, then she nodded and turned to open the front door with shaking hands. Mosely shot one last glace to von Glower before joining Gerde, and stepping out with her. Von Glower only caught a glimpse of several people standing in front of the door – and there were certainly more behind them – before Gerde closed it behind herself. Still, that could not stop him from listening all they were saying: his hearing was that keen, and they certainly weren't bothering to keep their voices low.

Von Glower listened to their demands to let them through to deal with him, and Gerde's attempts at telling them that everything was under control, occasionally stopping to translate for Mosely – who von Glower suspected wasn't being taken in much consideration – what they were saying. To be fair, Gerde did a good job by explaining that keeping him alive for now was the only way for Gabriel to undo the curse on himself, but they didn't quite seem to buy her reassurances that he wasn't seeking anyone's blood.

"He killed a little girl! He should die!" von Glower heard someone shouting.

"It was not him," Gerde was replying. "It was another werewolf. He didn't-"

"But he's the one who created him!"

"He's a monster!"

"Why hasn't the Schattenjäger dealt with him yet?"

Von Glower sighed as Gerde's attempts at explaining were covered by more shouts of agreement and demands for his blood to be spilled and his body to be burned. They weren't going to listen for much longer, he thought – perhaps Gabriel could talk them into waiting, but Gerde had no chance. It was only a matter of minutes before they tried to force their way through her and Mosely, and should Mosely try to stop them, should he try to shoot… then they might kill him. It was a risk von Glower wasn't going to let him run. Besides, he mused while walking across the room and reaching to open the door, he would have more chances to get away while outside than when inside the castle. For a moment of thought back of the secret passage that led on the other side of the hill, but he chased away the thought – he had promised Gabriel he'd stay, and promised himself he wouldn't run away again. He would keep both promises, come what may.

The heavy door's opening was greeted by silence, for everyone outside immediately stopped speaking to stare as von Glower walked out, leaving the door ajar. There was a crowd on the small bridge, and surprise mixed with anger and hatred on almost everyone's face – almost: Mosely and Gerde were simply looking at him as though he had just gone crazy. Von Glower noticed that Mosely's hand was in the pocket of his coat, where he was certain his gun was. It looked like he had been close to pull it out, he mused before giving both him and Gerde a slight nod.

_I know what I'm doing. Let me deal with this._

Mosely kept staring, but Gerde nodded back and turned to the crowd. "Please, just listen for a minute," she said quickly as a few of them opened their mouths to speak, or shout. "As I told you, he's not dangerous. Let him-"

"Rudolf von Ralick," a man spoke up, looking straight at him, and from the way everyone's gaze had shifted on him von Glower could guess he was an important man in Rittersberg. "It is you, isn't it? Claus von Ralick's son."

Von Glower nodded, all too aware of the rifles three different men were keeping pointed on him should he make a wrong move. "I am. On these days I go by Friedrich von Glower, but yes, that is my birth name."

The man scowled. "Your father was executed here, in this town. Are you aware of that?"

"Yes."

"And you also know  _why_ , don't you?"

A pause. "Yes. As the Black Wolf, he was the cause of many deaths."

"You were meant to die the same night your father did. Why didn't you?"

Von Glower turned a little to west, where he knew his home town was. "My mother had the foresight to flee, and those who had come to burn our house with us in it barely missed us. That decision saved my life."

"And condemned many others. What of little Toni Huber?" the man asked harshly, his voice raising in anger. "What of my cousin's little girl?"

"Uncle, please…" Gerde tried, but the man wasn't listening, and von Glower gestured for her to keep quiet.

"I am deeply sorry for what happened to the child, and to all those von Zell's madness hurt," he said quietly. "But it was not me to murder her. Nor the others. I would never condone such mindless slaughter."

"But you created him!" a woman's voice rang out, strong and clear, and von Glower found its owner right behind the man he had spoken to until that moment – a small, blue eyed woman who was staring at him with far more hatred than von Glower had previously thought could exist. A man had an arm around her as though to comfort her, but it was clear he was actually leaning on her for support, his eyes tightly shut, and in that moment von Glower knew who they were – Toni Huber's parents.

For a moment he couldn't think of anything to reply with: he could only stare at the woman who had outlived her own child and was now facing the man she thought of as responsible for her death, and he was reminded, so suddenly it was unsettling, of his own mother's gaze as she promised each and every servant a painful death should they even think of telling anyone she and her son still lived, of how certain he had been that she would really be willing to kill to keep him safe.

Finally, after what felt like a long time and was actually only a handful of seconds, von Glower spoke again. "I did create him," he finally admitted, "and it was foolish of me. I do regret it. I only meant to find a companion to be by my side through immortality. I never meant for anything like this to-"

"What does it matter what you  _meant_  to do?" the woman screamed, staring at von Glower with such hatred that she looked like she would have killed him herself if she only could. "My baby is dead! She was killed by the monster you created! I saw it killing her, and dragging her away! You killed her as well!"

Von Glower opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out, and he eventually shut his mouth. He had never before faced any of those who mourned a werewolf's victims, were they his own or von Zell's. Never. And now he found himself unprepared to face them and their grief, to provide an answer that would release him of all responsibility. He thought of his mother again and wondered if losing him, her only son, would have been enough to utterly destroy her. It probably would have. How many had been left to grieve for each person who fell prey to the Black Wolf, of  _him_? The thought chilled him.

"Give her back!" the woman was still screaming. "Give me my child back! All that was left were some… some…" her voice broke and she finally began sobbing, a sound that seemed to awaken her husband out of his trance. He held her close, letting her hide her tear-stricken face on his chest, and looked at von Glower with just as much hatred as his wife had shown.

"You must pay for this! You must die!" he spat out hatefully, and a chorus of shouts of agreements resounded in the air.

Von Glower barely heard them: all he could do was staring at Frau Huber as she kept mourning the loss of her only child by the fangs of a monster he had crated, the way so many people had certainly mourned so many other victims that had fallen to  _his_  fangs throughout the centuries. He shut his eyes and tried to think back to his philosophy, to repeat himself that a beast is only driven by instinct and no morals can be applied to it, but all he could think of now were Toni's mother's heart-wrenching sobs and her hatred and despair as she screamed at the man who had caused her daughter's death, and he suddenly felt cold.

He was snapped from his trance by the shouts of the people of Rittersberg, and it was only then that he realized Huber had left his wife in the care of another man and had walked up to him, eyes livid. "You don't deserve to live," he seethed.

Von Glower drew in a deep breath. "Would revenge sate you?" he asked quietly.

"It might," the man gritted out. There was a moment of silence before von Glower spoke again.

"Very well. Mosely, may I ask you to give me your gun?" he asked, turning to Mosely – who, on the other hand, stared back at him with wide eyes.

"I… what?"

"Your gun, if you will," von Glower repeated somewhat tiredly, holding out his hand, and after some hesitation Mosely did pull the gun out of his pocket and placed it on the palm of von Glower's hand.

There were a few shouts, and von Glower could hear clearly the clicking sounds as the men holding the rifles got ready to shoot, but he ignored them. "Revenge is a very human thing, isn't it?" he said almost thoughtfully, glancing down at Mosely's gun. "Unheard of in nature."

Sepp Huber's face turned crimson with rage. "If you think you can stand there and tell what would be right or wrong, you monster…!"

"I do not," von Glower replied quietly, raising his gaze to meet his, and even though he was being perfectly calm Huber and everyone else immediately stopped talking to listen. "I never claimed I can actually make such distinctions – nature itself doesn't. Revenge is in human nature, and that's a fact. It's not up to me to judge it. If you believe you have every right to take revenge, just do it," he held out his hand, the one with the gun, and for a moment someone shouted a warning before it was clear that von Glower wasn't pointing the weapon against Sepp Huber – he was handing it to him.

The man suddenly seemed awfully confused, his demeanour changing completely. He stared at the gun as if he had never seen anything like that in his life. "What…?" he murmured. That was clearly the last thing he would have expected to happen.

"I can only die if you cause brain or heart damage," von Glower was going on. "I'd suggest to aim for my head. You can't miss at such a close range."

Sepp Huber glanced up at him as though he couldn't be serious, and von Glower just stared back, no fear nor any other kind of emotion showing on his face – he just waited for the other man to make his choice.

Finally, Huber reached to take the gun and held it up, right against von Glower's forehead. His hand was shaking and he stared at von Glower as though expecting him to try escaping, but von Glower just stayed still, staring right back at him. "Do you have any last words?" Huber finally spoke. A deadly silence had fallen on the crowd. Gerde seemed to be barely daring to breathe.

Von Glower stayed silent for a moment, then: "I'm sorry."

Another long moment of silence followed before Huber gathered the strength to speak again. "Are you?" he asked weakly. His hand was still shaking.

"Yes."

Huber let out a dry sob. "I want my baby back," he choked out, so miserable that von Glower couldn't stand looking at him anymore. He shut his eyes and only focused on the coldness of the gun pressing against his forehead.

"I know. Forgive me," was all he could say, eyes still tightly shut, and he waited for the man to pull the trigger, for death to come at long last. Neither thing happened. The pressure on his forehead disappeared, and he heard Sepp Huber choking back a sob before a clattering noise reached his hears – he gun had slipped from his grasp. Von Glower opened his eyes to see him with his head lowered, eyes shut.

"I can't do it," he said pitifully, reaching to dry his eyes with his sleeve, and he looked almost lost. "I can't… Werner…" he turned to the man behind him, the first one who had spoken when von Glower had walked out. "I can't do it."

Werner Huber reached to take his cousin's arm. "Come," he said gently, pulling him away from von Glower. "It's alright. Christa needs you now."

Sepp Huber just nodded and walked back to his wife, not turning once to look at von Glower, and it was a relief – he didn't think he could stand his gaze. On the other hand, Werner Huber did look straight at him, and then past him, to Gerde. "Why should we let this being live?" he demanded to know.

Gerde swallowed. "Uncle, please. You know that if anyone but the Schattenjäger kills him-"

"Then why isn't the Schattenjäger killing him? Why won't he-" he was cut off by the sudden sound of a car coming up from the path leading to Rittersberg, followed by the sound of slamming brakes.

"What the…? Okay, the fuck are y'all doing here?" a very familiar voice reached their ears, and everyone turned to see a less than amused Gabriel Knight coming up.

"It was about darn time you got back, Knight!" Mosely shouted before anyone could say anything. "Why the hell are you always elsewhere when your shit hits the fan?"

"Hey, you know my timing," Gabriel said, walking through the crowd and up to them, followed by Grace. She looked anything but amused by the situation and she seemed relieved to see him still alive, though von Glower was inclined to believe it was merely because his death could have meant taking away any chance Gabriel had to get back to normal. The thought made his own stomach clench – had he actually been killed minutes earlier, what would have become of Gabriel? Had even accepting death been a selfish act from his part?

"By the way, what exactly happened here?" Gabriel was asking, turning to Werner Huber. "Up to steal my job and skin the big bad wolf?"

"Since you don't seem interested in doing your job, someone else should do it," was the cold reply.

Gabriel frowned. "Hey, Habermas told you guys why I'm not killing him, right? I'm out to hunt creatures of darkness, and that kind of stuff doesn't get along with the Talisman like he does," he said, and gestured to von Glower. "The werewolf who killed Toni Huber was repelled by it. He isn't. That's got to mean something, right? And it means he doesn't qualify as a-"

"We only have your word for that, Herr Knight," was Werner Huber's cold reply, and a murmur of agreement greeted his words. Gabriel blinked.

"Wait, so you think I…? Aw, c'mon! I didn't make anything up, I… okay, whatever. Just look," Gabriel snapped back, and before anyone could question him he took the Talisman off his neck and hastily put it around von Glower's. "See? He's not… bursting in flames, or something. Well, yeah, that would be vampires, but the point is still that the Talisman isn't hurting him. See?"

A few moments of silence followed, everyone staring so intensely at him and the talisman that von Glower wondered if they were really expecting him to burst in flames. Eventually, however, it was clear to everyone that wasn't about to happen, and Werner Huber gave a low hum. "I see," he finally said.

"Great. So now let's put the guns down," he glanced at the people still holding their rifles. "And let's just talk this through, okay? Guys, get in," he added, turning to von Glower, Mosely, Gerde and Grace. "I can deal with this. Just give me back the talisman, yes?"

Von Glower nodded and handed him the heirloom, feeling too tired and empty to do anything but do as Gabriel said and walking back inside, eyes lowered not to risk meeting the eyes of Toni Huber's parents. Grace protested a little, but she eventually walked in as well, closing the door behind herself. There was a long silence in the front room as all four of them stood there, waiting for Gabriel to be done speaking to the people of Rittersberg. Von Glower could hear the discussion through the door, but he decided to stop listening and gave a heavy sigh.

"I never meant for anything like this to happen," he said quietly, sorrow clearly showing in his voice, and had he looked up he would have seen Grace's scowl melting for a second before she forced it back on her face and turned without saying anything.

"Sure you didn't," Mosely said a little awkwardly, putting his gun back in his pocket now that he had made sure it wasn't damaged. "I mean, who  _wants_  stuff like that to happen?"

Von Glower smiled a little. "Thank you for offering yourself to stand up to them," he said. "Gabriel is lucky to have a friend like you."

"Nah, don't worry," Mosely waved his hand dismissively. "I know what it's like when people want to murder you. My ex-wife would give those guys a run for their money," he added, and both Grace and Gerde chuckled a little.

"It was brave of you, though," Gerde told him before turning to von Glower. "And you took a great risk."

"I told you I wouldn't let the two of you die for my sake," von Glower replied. Grace looked up with a puzzled expression, clearly wondering what had happened, but before she could ask the door opened and Gabriel walked back in.

"Whew," he said, running a hand through his hair. "That was close, huh?"

"What happened? What did you tell them?" Grace asked.

"Well, now that they  _saw_  that the Talisman really doesn't hurt him, they were just a bit more agreeable. And the Hubers didn't seem out for his blood, but I didn't get anything coherent out of them, and…" he sighed. "Man, I so didn't want to have to face them again. I didn't know what to say. They kept crying and thanking me for killing their kid's murderer."

Von Glower shut his eyes.

"Anyway," Gabriel was going on. "I think I managed to get my point across this time. They said they're going to wait and see. I guess that as long as you beha- hey, Friedrich? Are you okay?"

"I'm a little shaken, I suppose," von Glower heard himself replying, avoiding eye contact. He wasn't sure he would be able to stand Gabriel's gaze, open and trusting; did he know, did he suspect von Zell hadn't been the only one to hunt man after discarding his human hide? Would he still protect him, still value his affection if he knew? He feared not. Was what he had done for his whole life any different from the mindless slaughter von Zell had perpetrated in his insanity, and had the victims of those who had fallen pray to the Black Wolf been mourned any less that Toni Huber was? Would it make any difference for those left to mourn whether their loved ones had been killed by a beast on the hunt or mindlessly slaughtered by an insane creature? He doubted that.

"Well, yeah, no wonder," Gabriel commented. "Maybe you need to lie down or something?"

It was tempting, retiring in his room and not having to face him or anyone for a while, but von Glower decided against it: there were answers Gabriel had been seeking, and he had to know if he had found them. "No, no need to," he said. "Did you find any way to break the curse?"

Gabriel blinked, as though he had completely forgotten about it. "Oh, that! Right, I almost forgot. Well, not really, but y'know, lots of stuff going on. Anyway, yeah, I have news. Good ones. Not for me yet, but at least for Ludwig and von Zell. Here's the thing…"

* * *

Much to Elsa's annoyance, it turned out that getting inside that stupid club wasn't exactly easy. And it wasn't easy because the concierge was a complete idiot. No matter how many times she tried to tell him that she couldn't give a shit about being part of that club and she only wanted to get in once to talk to its members, that imbecile would keep rambling on about the club being a private men-only one over and over and her patience was fucking wearing thin.

"Fine, let me speak slowly and with small words, yes?" she finally growled, choosing to ignore the mental imagine she of herself grabbing the pen on the desk and sticking it repeatedly in his throat. "I only have to speak to the guys in there – and they  _are_  in there, I can hear them just fine – and then I'll get lost. Now let me through."

The concierge shook his head. "I'm afraid you don't understand," he began, a hint of exasperation showing in his voice as he spoke again, and it was enough to finally make her snap.

"No, you're the one who doesn't understand," Elsa growled, causing him to abruptly shut his mouth. "I'm going in there, period. The only thing you can choose is how I'm getting there – will it be walking through the door or walking on you and  _then_  through the door?"

Xavier stared at her for a few instants, his mouth hanging open, then he seemed to recollect… but his voice wasn't as sure as before. "If you're threatening me…" he began, and Elsa snorted.

"Look, if you just let me in-"

"What's going on, Xavier?"

Elsa turned to see a man with sandy greying hair walking through the door, looking at her questioningly. "Herr Preiss," the concierge immediately greeted him. "I'm terribly sorry, I tried to tell her this is a private-"

"I only have to speak to you five minutes," Elsa cut him off, only looking at the newcomer. "It's important."

"Important?" Preiss repeated, his eyes scanning her, then he gave a sly smile she couldn't say she liked. "In that case, I can't see why you couldn't make an appointment. I do happen to have a study-"

"It's not only to you I need to speak," Elsa interrupted him. "I need to speak to the other members of the club as well."

"Oh," Preiss looked at her more carefully now. "About what, may I ask?"

Well, Elsa thought, here goes nothing. "I know you and two other members of this club owned Baron von Zell large amounts of money. Isn't it so?"

Her question had a curious effect on Preiss: in just a moment, his face looked absolutely expressionless. "I think we should get inside to speak further of the matter," he said in a poorly disguised attempt at taking it somewhere out of the concierge's earshot. "I'm officially inviting her in, Xavier. This way," he added, turning to her.

Elsa smirked at Xavier before following Preiss inside a large room with a high ceiling and a large fireplace. There were two armchairs in front of the fireplace, but the only two people in the room weren't sitting on them – they were standing at a bar at the other end of the room, pouring themselves some beer. One of them was also eating something. They both turned to greet Preiss and ended up staring at her with puzzled expressions as they approached.

"Who's your friend, Herr Preiss?" the man who was still filling his stein asked, recovering first. "I wasn't aware you were planning on, well… this  _is_  a men-only club…"

Elsa had barely enough time to wonder what the hell made them think their club was so special that everyone and their cat would want to join it before Preiss spoke. "I actually think she's here for business," he said, leaning against the bar as well "and I'm about as curious as you are. So I suppose we should start with the introductions, shouldn't we? I am Preiss, and the gentlemen here are von Aigner and Hennemann."

"Nice to meet you. Are those pretzels?" she asked, her attention shifting to the dish von Aigner had been emptying, and her stomach grumbled. She wasn't sure how she could be hungry again after all she had eaten in the past couple of days, but oh well, she wasn't one to pass up a free snack.

"Guten Abend," von Aigner said drily, keeping an eye on the dish as she took a handful of pretzels. "And you are…?"

"Elsa Schröder," she said over the mouthful. "Is there any beer left?" she asked, though it was an useless question – there was enough to drink for a small army in that bar.

"Of course," Hennemann said, reaching to pour her some beer, but he looked less than amused. "Now, if you're going to enlighten us…"

"I'm Garr von Zell's niece," she replied immediately, knowing that would probably make him stop act bothered. And she was right: in a moment both von Aigner and Henneman – but not Preiss, she noticed – immediately fell over themselves to offer their condolences, though they looked more worried than pained. Elsa refrained from rolling her eyes at some back-handed praise Hennemann gave her uncle – only a politician could say something like that about a grade-A asshole like Garr von Zell and keep a straight face – and simply nodded politely while she took a swig of beer.

"Now," Preiss said when they were done offering some of the less sincere condolences Elsa had ever heard, which was quite a feat. "I do believe there's something you're here to discuss specifically."

Elsa had to hold back a smirk – that really worried him, didn't it? – and just nodded, putting down the stein. "Yes. I'm here on behalf of the rest of the family," she lied, leaning against the bar. "We're aware of the fact all three of you owed a substantial amount of money to my late uncle."

Both von Aigner and Hennemann stiffened, but their replies were most polite: they confirmed that yes, they did owe him money he had lent them in his generosity – Elsa had to hold back a loud snort – and that of course they'd pay off everything, that the only reason why they hadn't yet was that they weren't certain who they should turn to for the payment now that von Zell was gone. Something Elsa strongly doubted – unless she had read her uncles' notes incredibly wrong they all had very large sums to pay back, high enough to make her doubt they were just going to pay right away by taking a roll of cash out of the breast pockets… which worked perfectly for her. It gave her quite an edge on them.

"You won't have to, unless you really want to," she told them. "My family is willing to just forget about it."

The mixture of relief and suspicion was plain on von Aigner's face, less visible on Hennemann's – he was a politician, after all – and not at all present on Preiss': that man was expressionless at the moment. Still, he seemed to have grasped the situation as well as the others, for he spoke before either of them could do so to thank her. "There is a catch, isn't there?" he asked plainly, an interested and somewhat intrigued expression finally appearing on his face. There was the hint of a sly smirk on his face, and it took a moment for Elsa to decide she liked him better when his face was blank.

She shrugged. "Not quite. But we'd very much appreciate your help on a certain matter. Just some information, nothing more."

"Of course," was Hennemann's immediate reply. Von Aigner nodded at his words.

"We're listening," was all Preiss said. "What is it about?"

"Gabriel Knight."

Von Aigner, who had been taking a swig of beer from his stein, suddenly began coughing. Elsa took a step on her right to be sure he wouldn't spit anything on her, but after Hennemann reached to pat his back he seemed to be doing fine enough, so she leant on the bar again.

"About Herr Knight?" Hennemann was asking, still patting von Aigner's back. "Why would your family be interested in him?"

Elsa shrugged. "As you know, he was out in the woods with my uncle and Baron von Glower the night my uncle disappeared, and we know from your own testimonies to the police that things were rather tense between him and my uncle," she said, refraining from asking anything about von Glower just yet – she was curious, but that man was one of them and they were probably going to be less willing to say anything that could go to his disadvantage; for now she could only ask of Knight. "Also, he seems to be a rather… elusive character. You certainly cannot blame us for wanting to know more about him, and about the impression you got of this tension between him and Garr von Zell."

"Do you suspect him?" Preiss asked, now looking just intrigued. He seemed to be the most direct one out of all of them, so Else decided to keep asking him – if only he'd  _stop_  staring like that…!

"Not quite, but we do have some questions. Questions Knight himself didn't seem willing to reply to."

"We didn't really get to know him that well," Hennemann pointed out a little uncomfortably "I think Baron von Glower is the one who actually-"

"I tried to speak to him, but he appears to be out of town, and I have no idea where he is," Elsa cut him off "besides, for now it's not about Knight himself I want to know – what I'm asking is on what terms he was exactly with my uncle and what fuelled the animosity."

"What  _you_  want to know?" Preiss asked smoothly, and Elsa knew immediately what he was getting at. She had made a stupid slip and had to cover it up, quickly.

"Yes. I'll admit I am the one who pressed my family to get some answers. I can be insistent," she replied with a shrug. "I managed to drag the rest of the family along eventually. Now, can you tell me what I asked you to? Or can you not?" she asked, knowing all too well they all would know what the consequences would be should they decide not to – their debts would have to be fulfilled.

Only a moment of silence followed before Preiss nodded. "Very well, then. When Herr Knight came in the club, little over two months ago, it was Baron von Glower to introduce him. I don't know for sure how they met, but-"

"Preiss," Hennemann interrupted him in a careful tone. "Perhaps it isn't the case…"

"Nonsense," Preiss said smoothly. "I don't think anyone will get in trouble for anything we'll say. And we do owe von Zell's family at least this for their favour," he added, smirking at Elsa.

She chose to ignore the slyness in his smirk and nodded. "So von Glower introduced him to the club," she said. That much she knew already, really, but she wanted to just keep Preiss speaking.

"Yes. And von Zell disliked him right away."

"Do you know why?" Elsa urged him on, reminded of the sudden wave of hatred she had felt for Gabriel Knight before she even met him. She still couldn't find a logical explanation for that, nor for… well, a lot of other things, but of course her uncle had to have a  _reason_  to dislike a man he barely even knew so much.

Preiss chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I suppose one could say they were too different men to get along, but they didn't truly get to know each other much, so in all honesty I can't claim that's the reason. No, the reason why von Zell was against Herr Knight since the first moment was that it had been von Glower to introduce him to the club."

Well, that really was not what Elsa had expected to hear – not that she knew what she expected, but certainly not  _that_. "Excuse me?"

Hennemann tried once again to speak up. "Preiss, this is degenerating into… into pure gossip," he tried to chastise him, only gaining himself an amused glance. "We can only speculate…"

Von Aigner snorted a little, making everyone turn to him, and Elsa noticed he had almost finished the pretzels as they spoke. "Speculate? We're not speculating, Hennemann. We're stating a fact," he said, chewing busily. "And I suppose that now that von Zell is gone there is no harm done if we just tell her the reason why he was so upset when von Glower introduced Herr Knight to the club."

"I still think we shouldn't-"

Elsa frowned irritably. "Are you having fun speaking in riddles?" she asked drily.

"What my dear friends here are trying to say," Preiss almost purred, completely ignoring the other two's quarrel as he leant on the wooden bar. "Is that von Zell used to be the baron's  _favorite_ ," he suggestively wriggled his eyebrows, "until they apparently… fell apart."

Elsa raised an eyebrow. "Favorite?" she repeated. Did he really mean what she thought he meant…? But of course he meant just that; he couldn't get any more obvious. An amused smile curled her lips at the thought – so her uncle's terrible attitude wasn't the reason why he had never seemed to be willing to find a woman and settle down as she remembered her grandfather urging him to. Elsa wondered what the old man would have thought if he knew, and the thought of his face frozen in a furious and horrified rictus made her snicker.

"You seem amused," Preiss was grinning a little himself.

Elsa laughed. "Oh, yes. My mother would have  _paid_  to have news like this a few years back," she said. Her mother would have told her grandfather everything within the minute, and would have probably gotten the best orgasm of her life by watching the old man disowning him in ten seconds flat. And she even had the rush to be the first to give them a grandchild! "I can't wait to rub it in her face."

"My, aren't you a vicious thing," Preiss gave a rumbling laugher. That would have immediately made Elsa glare at him normally, but she was still so amused by how well her uncle had managed to hide the true nature of his relationship with that von Glower that the only effect it had was to make her finally stop laughing and get back in topic.

"And what does this Gabriel Knight have to do with it?" she asked, gulping down some more beer. "Did he have something to do with their break up?" she smirked again despite the contempt that flared up as she thought of that man.

"That's probably not something we should be discuss-" Hennemann tried cut in, but they both ignored him. He turned to von Aigner as if looking for help, but the man was too busy hogging on any pretzel that was left to notice it.

"Not quite, no," Preiss scratched his cheek. "Things started to sour between them a few months before Knight became part of the club."

"He never really became part of it, as Xavier likes to repeat," von Aigner muttered, then he shrugged. "I didn't mind him, really."

Elsa ignored what he had just said – though the concierge did gain back a few points in her eyes – and frowned. "And why did things between them sour in the first place?" she asked.

Preiss shook his head. "That we don't know," he told her, "but we could tell that von Zell's attitude began changing sometime last year. Nine, ten months ago, maybe?" he massaged his chin in thought. "Yes, about that long. He began getting more aggressive, easy to anger. Shortly before his disappearance he had bursts of temper over the most trivial… is something wrong?" he asked, seeing how Elsa's frown had deepened.

She recoiled and shook her head. "I… no. I was just reminded of someone," she said, once again thinking of how easy to anger she was lately – well, even easier than usual. "So, he was the one who changed, right?"

"Yes. It was rather gradual, but there was not mistaking a change. Von Glower didn't seem to appreciate, but they did get along rather well until… three or four months ago, perhaps. That was when they grew… distant. They wouldn't go hunting together on weekends like they used to do, and they would argue often."

"Over what?" Elsa asked. It looked like that von Glower person was more worth looking into than she had thought at first.

"I couldn't quite tell. They wouldn't argue over anything specific when not alone, and I don't stick my nose  _that_  far in other people's personal business," Preiss replied, and Elsa could have sworn she had heard Hennemann snorting lightly. "But I could tell that von Glower was the one who kept himself away, mostly – and von Zell grew more and more frustrated. I suppose that when von Glower introduced Herr Knight to the club it was the last straw."

Fine, that was it – von Glower was someone she was going to have to look into just as much as Gabriel Knight, if not even more. She would be back at his mansion to ask if he was back right the next morning, she decided. She needed to know more of his relationship with her uncle and of the one with Gabriel Knight. "Is that all?" Elsa asked.

"Yes, it is all," Preiss simply said.

She nodded and finished her beer before putting down the stein. "Very well, then. I think I'm done here, for your concierge's peace of mind. Thank you for your time," she said, nodding at them while snatching the last pretzel from the dish one moment before von Aigner could. "I'll make sure any debt you might have had to my late uncle is dealt with. Have a nice evening," she added before stuffing the pretzel in her mouth and turning to walk to the door.

Much to her displeasure, however, Preiss seemed to have decided that escorting her to the front door would be a good idea and walked up to her. "You know, talking to you was an interesting experience. I get the feeling there's more to your and your intentions than it meets the eye," he told her with a knowing smirk, and Elsa felt suddenly defensive. Still, she tried to keep calm.

"Rest assured, I'll be making sure your debt is erased," she let him know, walking stiffly into the front room.

Preiss chuckled, not getting her hint at all or choosing not to. "That's generous of you, but it's not what I was referring to. As I said, I did enjoy our chat. I like, how should I say? New  _experiences_ ," he added, and this time there was just no mistaking his sleazy grin… nor the way he was leaning on the front door.

Oh,  _great_. Elsa held back an exasperated sigh and just looked up at him, forcing herself to grin back. "Is that so? Funny coincidence, so do I. And I'm pretty sure I can grant you a completely different experience from anything you've ever tried."

"Oh?" Preiss raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. "What kind of experience?"

"Castration," was Elsa's dry reply, and the smile immediately vanished from Preiss' face. "Now, unless you feel like indulging in  _that_  kind of experience, I'd very much like to get out."

Preiss stared at her with a slight frown for a few moments, then he sighed. "Ah well, someone who doesn't play cannot win," he just said, stepping away from the door. "Just one thing, Frau Schröder."

"What is it?" Elsa asked stiffly, opening the door.

"Be careful in whose business you push your nose."

That made her stop in her tracks. She turned to glare at him, still holding the door open. "Are you threatening me, Preiss?"

He shook his head. "Oh, no, not at all. It's just some friendly advice. Think carefully over what you'll do. And do ask yourself if Garr von Zell is worth the trouble to begin with."

Elsa stared at him for a few moments, wondering if he was being serious, and yes, he was being serious – either that, or he was a better actor than she gave him credit for. She eventually just scoffed. "Let me be the judge of that," was all she said before walking out of the club, shutting the door behind herself.


	10. The Black Wolf's Hunts

"Tell me you have good news, Gracie."

Grace put down the phone and nodded, folding the sheet of paper where she had written the address and putting it in her pocket. "Yes. I spoke with the… practitioner. I'll see her tomorrow at lunchtime so that she can explain me how exactly the ritual is to be done. Are you sure you don't want to come?"

Gabriel shook his head. "I'm sure. Even if I weren't stuck in Rittersberg for this… reunion, or whatever they call it, I still wouldn't be needed. You're the one who rocks at research," he added with a wink.

She rolled her eyes before frowning. "But what is it they exactly want?" she asked. Why the people of Rittersberg had insisted for that… council in Gabriel's presence was beyond her.

Gabriel shrugged. "Beats me. Maybe some more reassurances that Friedrich is going to be a good puppy, or that I'm not going to start hunting down people myself while I'm still a werewolf. I just hope the Hubers will have left by then, as they said they would. I sure don't want to face them again."

_Friedrich_. Grace frowned a little. Until the previous day – well, until that same morning, actually – the fact Gabriel referred to him on a first name basis both angered and worried her, but now there was only the worry and very little of the anger in her. Why was that?

"Grace, are you okay?"

She recoiled. "I… yes. I'm fine. I was just thinking. Are you still sure sending Mosely to take Ludwig's heart is a good idea? He never was there, but I was. And if I could take the diagram from that urn once, I can also take-"

"Nah, I'm sure Mose will do fine," Gabriel cut her off. "I mean, really, cut him some slack. He's not that much of a lousy cop. Back in the hunfour he actually was almost cool, saving your life and all. You could have almost said he knew what he was doing. Besides," Gabriel grinned a little again, "I already asked someone down in Rittersberg to get his, uh, token done. Don't think you'd wanna use that."

Oh, Grace thought, right – the silver body part that was supposed to represent… whatever Mosely was supposed to be there to pray for healing. She frowned a little. "Do I even want to know…?"

"Probably not," Gabriel cut her off, chuckling a little to himself at the thought of the token he had asked to be made by the next day for Mosely – his request had definitely made a few brows rise, but in the end they seemed more amused than anything. Well, for the most part. Werner Huber probably thought he was a complete idiot and a blasphemous one to boot, but Mosely's face once he saw the token he was supposed to use would be so worth it.

His amusement, however, wavered as he walked back in the hallway and thought back of von Glower's expression when he had excused himself and retired to his room. He had been clearly glad and relieved to know that there was a way to give Ludwig and von Zell's souls peace – though that meant that to help out von Zell they were going to have to get his to his body and cut out his heart or whatever the bullet had left of it, and it wasn't a pleasant thought in Gabriel's opinion – but he still looked proved and tired and thoughtful. His meeting with the Hubers had clearly been hard to get out of his head.

Maybe he should check how he was doing, Gabriel thought, and he walked up to von Glower's door to knock without giving the matter any further thought.

"Do come in."

"Hey, Friedrich," Gabriel called, walking in. Von Glower was sitting on the edge of the bed, and it looked like he hadn't been doing much but staring straight ahead for a while. Odd. "Are you okay?"

Von Glower smiled a little tiredly. "Yes, I am fine," he reassured him. "I was simply a little… shaken, I supposed. I never met any relative of… any werewolf victim," he added, turning his gaze to the ground once more.

Gabriel shrugged. "Well… yeah, I guess it's not much of a party," he admitted. "But it's not your fault, okay? You had no idea von Zell would have gone that far."

"I should have imagined it," von Glower murmured. "Others of those I chose fell into madness. I should have known that nothing I could teach him would prepare his mind for the Blood. It was too much. It's too much for any ordinary human being."

Well, that much was true, and while there was a logical part of him that kept repeating von Glower just could not know to what lengths von Zell's madness would bring him there was another part of him that just couldn't stop thinking of what could have been avoided if only von Glower avoided the risk completely. There would be no lair in the woods now, he thought, no pit filled with corpses at various stages of decaying, some of them so old that-

Gabriel's mind suddenly froze, unable to finish that thought as though he could see even now von Zell's lair, the countless bodies inside the pit. So many bodies, so much more than just the recent ones; so many bodies, too many for any werewolf to kill in only few months' span without anyone noticing the disappearances; too many, and too old. Von Zell had only been a werewolf for a year at most, while some of those bodies…

Some of those bodies were decades old.

"Gabriel…?" von Glower's worried voice reached him as though from a great distance. Gabriel looked up to see von Glower now standing, looking at him with concern, but he took a step back as soon as von Glower tried to reach out for him, his head spinning.

_… the Baron arrived in Germany in the seventies… brought new ideas in the club…_

_… between 1970 and 1990 there were ten to twelve disappearances a year in each area…_

_… there was an old woman who lived in the forest… she told the police that 'the wolf killed the girl'… she was always complaining about a huge black wolf in the forest…_

"Gabriel…?" von Glower's voice again, filled with concern, and then the warm weight of his hand on his arm that made Gabriel shake with sudden revulsion.

"STAY BACK!" he screamed, violently pushing him back. Von Glower stumbled a little, caught by surprise, and he opened his mouth to speak, to ask him what was wrong – but then he shut his mouth and paled as he looked at Gabriel's furious, disgusted expression, and Gabriel could tell that now he knew, he knew that he  _knew_.

"How many people?" Gabriel gritted out, anger barely in check. He couldn't believe he had never realized that von Glower had hunted man as well, that he was a murderer. How could he not realize it? It was plain as day, he only had to think about it for a moment! Was it because he didn't think he would be capable of that? Was that what he had thought? What an idiot he had been!

The other man drew in a deep, shaky breath. "Gabriel-" he began, but Gabriel wouldn't let him finish. He didn't want to listen to his justifications, he didn't want his lies – he wanted the truth.

"How many people, Friedrich?" Gabriel repeated in a tight voice. "How many since when you came back in Germany? How many since Ludwig? How many in your  _life_?"

Von Glower turned away, apparently unable to stand his gaze. "I don't know," he finally admitted.

"And to think you had the guts to look shocked when you saw the bodies!" Gabriel growled. "It was yet another act! And here I thought that at least you condemned what von Zell-"

"I do!" von Glower said vehemently, but Gabriel could sense something akin to desperation in his voice. "That mindless slaughter is… something I'm completely opposed to. I told you that day that a healthy beast in the wild only takes what it needs to survive and treats its prey with-"

"Don't you dare give me that about  _respect_!" Gabriel snapped. "There's nothing respectful in tearing one's throat out! And you sure didn't need to hunt people to survive, so I don't care if you didn't dismember them in pieces tiny enough to fit in a shoebox – you're still no better than von Zell was!"

Von Glower shook his head. "No, Gabriel, I'm not! I never hunted out of bloodlust. But you must understand that to a beast there is no right or wrong, whether the prey is a man or a deer there is no diff-"

Gabriel moved quickly, managing to catch him by surprise, and his right fist hit von Glower straight on his face. He watched with vicious satisfaction as von Glower stumbled backwards and against the wall, bringing a hand to his face, then he was on him again before he could regain composure, and von Glower stilled as he felt something cold and sharp pressing against his throat – the Ritter dagger.

"Can I take a guess here, Friedrich?" Gabriel growled, his anger not soothed by the blood running down von Glower's chin and neck from his split lip. "That day you were shocked because it was the first time you actually saw what you created with your own eyes – as a man. You had never before faced your victims in any form but your beastly one, did you? You had never let the man face the result of the black wolf's actions before."

Von Glower stared at him, looking almost uncertain for the first time, and Gabriel gave him a jolt, still pressing the dagger against his throat.

"Did you?"

"No," von Glower finally murmured. "I had never seen the black wolf's victims with my human eyes."

"Why did you do that, Friedrich? A werewolf can retain some human awareness! I can, and I thought you could as well!"

Von Glower shut his eyes.

"Can you, Friedrich?"

"Gabriel…" he began, a pleading note in his voice, but Gabriel ignored it.

" _Can you_?" he pressed on, not really knowing what answer he feared the most – that he couldn't keep his human mind during the change or that he could, and consciously went after people. "Or can you not?"

"I can. And I do retain it, usually," von Glower said slowly. "But sometimes… I give up on it. I choose to fully become a beast, and my human mind won't take over again until I change back. In those occasions… prey is prey."

Gabriel could feel his blood turning into ice in his veins. "Then you really are no better than von Zell was."

"Gabriel, to a beast it doesn't matter-"

"Don't give me that again! For fuck's sake, you're not just a beast – you're also a  _man_! You should know better! You-" he trailed off as he noticed how von Glower was avoiding his eyes now. "… You don't look as certain as before about the excuses your beloved philosophy gives you," he said, now quieter.

Von Glower didn't reply right away, and Gabriel was about to press on when he finally turned to meet his gaze, and he Gabriel was taken aback by how empty his eyes looked now. "Let me sit down," von Glower said, sounding weary. "And I'll reply to any question you might have."

Gabriel hesitated for a moment, half-tempted to shake him – he did want to get some reaction out of him, but it was still unsettling seeing him like that – then he just nodded and let go of the front of his shirt. He said nothing and only watched as von Glower sat on the ground somewhat shakily, as though he couldn't find it in himself to walk across the room and have a seat, then he sat in front of him.

"I'm listening," he said coldly. "Why did you do it? You knew it could be dangerous for anyone in your way if you gave up any human consciousness in the Change. Why did you choose to do that?"

Von Glower drew in a deep breath. "The Change grants me a freedom no human being could ever taste. You experienced it as well when you-"

"I kept my human mind intact," Gabriel cut him off, "and you can do the same. So  _why did you choose not to_?" he pressed on, his voice raising.

There was a moment of silence, as though von Glower wasn't sure how to put it. "I suppose you can't know… since you never did…" a pause, then, "leaving all human consciousness behind, becoming fully a beast, grants even more freedom than the one you experienced. That's why, sometimes, I…" his voice faded and he fell silent.

Gabriel stared at him for a few moments, anger boiling in his chest. "So let me get this straight," he said slowly. "You let it happen even though you knew it could mean killing people because hey, it's more fun? Is  _that_  what you're saying?" he screamed the last question, jumping on his feet and grabbing the front of von Glower's shirt once more to shake him. "Dammit, Friedrich, how  _could_  you?"

Von Glower didn't react, but he did shut his eyes, and when he spoke again his voice was even weaker. "Gabriel, an animal isn't-"

"You're not an animal!" Gabriel screamed, giving him another shake for good measure. "You don't need to kill to survive! You don't automatically lose your mind when you grow fangs and fur – you choose to, for your amusement! How many people's throats did you tear out? Did you even remember doing so when you turned back to normal? Did you ever bother checking when you got your human mind back? No, you didn't, you already said you didn't," he spat out since von Glower seemed unable to speak. "This isn't something a beast does, this is something a monster does. I ought to kill you here and now!"

Von Glower opened his eyes to look at him, and for a moment Gabriel's grip slackened – it was the look of a man who just lost the one certainty he had in his life – but then he thought of the bodies in the cave again, and his grip tightened once more. "Tell me, what did it feel like seeing your victims as a man for the first time? And what did it feel like seeing Toni's mother just now? Oh, sure, von Zell was the one who killed her, but all those you killed surely had someone left to mourn, don't you think?" he roughly shoved von Glower back against the wall, as though he could no longer stand the closeness "you know what, I was wrong. You're not like von Zell – you're worse. At least von Zell was driven insane. Losing his mind wasn't his choice."

Von Glower said nothing, gaze lowered, and his silence infuriated Gabriel even more – didn't he have anything to say but poor excuses for himself? "At least say something," he snapped. "Something that makes  _sense_."

There were a few moments of silence before von Glower finally lifted his gaze, and Gabriel couldn't bring himself to feel sorry for him, no matter how haunted and  _lost_  he looked now. "You're right," he said quietly. "I had never faced the consequences of any kill – any  _human_  kill – I did as the black wolf. Since they happened when I retained no human awareness-"

"When you  _chose_  not to," Gabriel cut him off. He was not about to let him forget that detail.

Von Glower drew in a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, when I chose not to retain human awareness, I… wouldn't remember whether or not I had killed a human being the moment I returned to my human form."

"And you didn't try to find out," Gabriel reminded him mercilessly, arms folded on his chest.

"No, I did not. When you found the cave and I got in to see the bodies you had found, I wasn't prepared to see how many bodies were there. My shock that day was real," he shut his eyes. "I was not pretending."

"Is that supposed to make any of this okay?" Gabriel snapped at him. The other man shook his head.

"No, it wouldn't change a thing. I know that," von Glower said tiredly, and even though he was so much taller and broad-shouldered than Gabriel was he looked more vulnerable than Gabriel had ever thought he could possibly look, gaze lowered and back resting against the wall, blood still on his face. "Nothing I say would change that."

"Darn right it wouldn't," Gabriel said, but his frown had softened just a little. "But it wasn't enough to make you doubt of your philosophy just yet. But now you are, aren't you? So what did the trick?"

"The girl's mother. She reminded me of my own mother," von Glower murmured, and his reply was so unexpected that Gabriel blinked – but he gave him no reply, waiting for von Glower to go on. He didn't have to wait for long.

"She would have given her life for my safety. She did everything in her power to keep me safe. She often said that had she failed to save me the day our home was burned, she would have had no reason left to live. She said that grief would have killed her," von Glower said, his voice now sounding oddly distant "I dreaded the thought she'd have to suffer like that more than I feared for my life. And then I saw the Hubers, and what I saw was exactly the grief I so feared my mother would have to go through. And I wondered how many people had to grieve because of…" he paused and let himself slide on the ground so that he's be sitting again. He buried his face in his hands and said nothing more.

A long, heavy silence followed. Gabriel stared at him, his anger wavering as he tried to see the Friedrich he knew in that wreck of a man, and he realized that his philosophy, the principle according to which he wasn't morally responsible for the actions of the black wolf, was what had allowed him to live with himself until that moment – and now that he didn't have that anymore, how was he supposed to justify himself?

He couldn't, Gabriel thought. He simply couldn't. He had come to realize there were things he had no justifications for, responsibilities he could not shrug off, and to him that was worse than anything else he had ever faced in his long life. "Friedrich," he heard himself calling out.

Von Glower finally lifted his head to face him again. He looked pale and he could not conceal the slight tremor in his hands before he folded them tightly together. "Perhaps you truly should," he said quietly. "Kill me, I mean. You'd free yourself from the curse."

It was only then that Gabriel realized he still had the Ritter dagger in his hand. For the briefest moment his grip around the handle tightened, then just shook his head and forced your grip to relax. "And give you an easy way out? No. You told me I have a lot to think through – and you were right. But it looks like I'm not the only one who's got an awful lot thinking to do. I hope you will, carefully," he added before finally leaving the room, closing the door behind him.

Von Glower did not get up for a long time.

* * *

Grace knew she was dreaming the very same moment she opened her eyes to find herself standing in the corner of a bedroom she knew well, even though she had only seen it once: King Ludwig II's room in Neuschwanstein. As though that – and the fact she was still wearing her nightgown – wasn't enough of a give away, she could also see Ludwig himself in the room. But he wasn't looking at her: he was actually looking at someone else, a tall, broad shouldered man with curly black hair she recognized right away – von Glower.

Only that back then he didn't go as 'von Glower'. Back then he was Paul Gowden first, then Rudolf von Glower… and to Ludwig, he was 'Louis'.

"Ludwig, please," Louis – von Glower – spoke in German, but Grace was somehow able to understand each word he spoke. "You don't understand…"

Ludwig ordered him to silence with one imperious gesture, his face distorted in anger. "Oh, but I do understand. I only now begin to understand what kind of lowly creature you truly are. Get out of my sight at once, you Judas!"

"Ludwig…" von Glower sounded almost desperate now, and Grace was sure she had seen a flicker of something different from hatred on the king's face before he scowled again and silenced him once more with a vehement gesture.

"And after all the lies you fed me, after you sold me to that Prussian jackal, you expect me to believe your words? You expect me to believe you love me still after you damned me? You expect me to believe you ever did?"

"I did – I do!" von Glower cried out. "Please, let me explain-"

"Say no more, you devil!" Ludwig shouted. "Do not dare to show at my door ever again! I refuse to look upon your face one more minute! Go away, or I else…!" he hesitated, then he clenched his jaw, his eyes burning. "Or else I'll tell what you truly are! I don't care of what will happen to me, but I shall have you destroyed! I shall see you burning at the stake like your wretched father if you don't disappear from my sight!"

For an instant von Glower looked terrified, even more than he had when he had realized he was about to turn into a wolf during the Opera, then he clenched his jaw. "So be it!" he exclaimed, taking a step forward, and Grace could see it took Ludwig an effort to not step back. "Call the guards, tell everyone the truth! Get me arrested, get me killed, get yourself murdered if you're so inclined – but listen to me first!" he was actually begging now, maybe without even realizing it, and he seemed so desperate that he could have moved a stone. Grace had to shake her head and repeat herself that he didn't deserve her compassion, but despite everything she still couldn't help but feel somewhat sorry for him, for the lonely life he had to lead.

Ludwig hesitated again, a pained expression crossing his features, and for a brief moment it looked like he would give in… but then he forced himself to scowl once again. If it had been clear in his diary that he could never truly hate him, Grace thought, it was even clearer now. Still, he forced himself to believe he did, and when he spoke again his voice was trembling with… pain? Sadness? Rage? Grace couldn't tell.

"Can't you see how your mere presence is a torment to me?" he asked. "You have spoken enough. You have done enough – I only wish you finished your mission and ended my life rather than condemning me to this! A bloody death would have been sweeter than this. And to add insult to injury, I also have to endure the torment of listening over and over all your lies!"

Von Glower's features twisted into a mask of pure pain, as though those words had hit him physically. "Ludwig, I beg you-"

But Ludwig wouldn't listen to one more word he spoke. "Get out of my sight, Rudolf von Glower," he cut him off, spitting out the name he had chosen for himself when Bismarck had given him a title in exchange of his services, in exchange of the work he had done to convince him, Ludwig, to sign the treaty with Prussia. "I don't want to hear any of your lies anymore. But if it was not all a lie, if what you claim you felt for me is true, use me at least some mercy and never come near me again."

That seemed to hit von Glower in a way his shouts couldn't. He took a staggering step back, his gaze still fixed on the king, his face almost as pale as Grace had seen it when he had been wounded in the furnace room of the theatre. When he spoke again, his voice sounded oddly weak and he looked so much younger and almost lost, even though he looked everything like he did in the present and he had to be at well past a century old at that point already.

"I could teach you to enjoy this kind of life," he said quietly. It sounded like a plea, and it was clear that it was his last attempt – Grace could easily guess he had used that argument more than once already. "There is one thing I never lied to you about, and it is how I feel about you. We could truly be one now, and we could be happy if you only leave this place with me. We could flee together wherever you like, and you'll find out what a blessing this condition can be if you learn to accept it, to embrace it. Join me," he pleaded, his hand reaching out for Ludwig. From her corner and unseen by them, Grace scowled as she recalled those same words written on the letter von Glower had sent to Gabriel after he had been bitten –  _join me_.

Some of her contempt for him flared up again as she thought of how he could be the cause of Gabriel's ruin just as he had been the cause of Ludwig's, and it was a relief… still, despite her best efforts, she couldn't ignore the sense of pity gnawing at her.

"Join you?" Ludwig was repeating, a disgusted expression on his face as he glanced at von Glower's outstretched hand. "And thus surrender to the beast and live outside God's grace? No, I refuse to walk down that path to damnation!"

Von Glower dropped his shoulders, his hand falling by his side, and he suddenly looked incredibly tired. "You're condemning yourself this way," he said before adding in a whisper that Ludwig maybe didn't even hear, "... and me."

"No, I'm trying to keep my immortal soul safe. You're the one who condemned me," Ludwig's voice was as cold as ice, much more terrifying than his screams and insults. "Now, for the last time, leave this room. Leave this castle and never come back, you snake," his fiery eyes stared in von Glower's, and Grace could see that despite all his anger and the pain of the betrayal, it was taking him a terrible effort to convince himself that he truly despised his former lover. "May God damn you to the deepest pit of hell."

Von Glower flinched and for a moment Grace thought he would try to speak again, but then his face turned into an emotionless mask. "As you wish, Your Majesty," was all he said before he turned his back to him and walked out of the room.

Ludwig gave a long sigh as the door closed behind him and sat on a nearby chair, burrowing his face in his hands. He stayed motionless for what had to be only a few minutes, but felt like hours to Grace. She finally took a few steps forward, if anything to see if Ludwig would detect her presence and react in any way, but she was still a few steps from him when a howl came from the window, coming from the woods around the castle, and there was no mistaking whose howl that was: a normal wolf's howl would have never sounded so mournful, so filled with grief and loss.

Ludwig let out a cry as the sound reached his ears and he immediately collapsed from the chair on his knees, his hands clamping his ears shut, his breathing labored, murmuring something that sounded like a prayer. The last thing Grace could see as the scene before her began to slowly fade and falter away while she began to wake up was that Ludwig's handsome face was twisted in an expression of indescribable anguish, tears running down his cheeks and falling on the richly decorated carpet beneath him.

* * *

It was dark when von Glower left his room for the first time since his last conversation with Gabriel. His split lip had already healed, and he didn't pay any mind to the blood on the collar of his shirt – after all, he wasn't planning on keeping it all for much longer: he wouldn't need any clothes at all after Changing.

He wasn't planning on escaping: he would be back before dawn. But right he only wanted the little relief he could find in the Change, in savouring the cold wind of the forest ruffling his fur, in following this or that scent until his paws were tired, until he could find a deer or a rabbit that would fall to his fangs. He would sneak outside form the secret passage, leave his clothes there and-

A sudden clinking noise reached his ears, so soft that it was almost covered by the crackling sound of the fire he supposed Gerde had left going on before retiring in her room. Von Glower stopped in his tracks, wondering who it could be; he couldn't find it in himself to face Gabriel now, and he didn't know whether or not he had told anyone else what he had just found out about him. If he had, he didn't know what kind of reception he would get. In any case there was no way for him to sneak outside with someone in the living room, at least not trough the passage he knew, so he should probably just get back and-

"Oh, hey. It's you," Mosely's voice reached him before he could move a step. Von Glower glanced down at him to see he had a bottle of wine in his hand and a glass in the other. "You scared me for a moment. Care for a drink?" he asked, raising the bottle a bit. "I was looking for bourbon, but looks like all that's left is wine. I think I'll buy some of the good stuff on my way back from the shrine. Given that I don't get caught and arrested for trying to steal a royal heart," he muttered, making a face. "Hell, wouldn't that fuck me up big time. Would end my career back home in a snap."

So it looked like Gabriel hadn't told the others, von Glower mused. He opened his mouth to decline, but then it occurred to him that Mosely's was the only friendly face he had seen that day, aside from Gabriel's and perhaps Gerde – and Gabriel had to despise him now – and he found himself suddenly yearning for just that, for a little company and maybe some small talk over wine.

"Gladly," he finally heard himself saying, walking down the stairs to join him. There were a few armchairs around the fireplace, close enough to the fire to be comfortably warm, and Mosely was pouring the wine in two glasses. He handed one to von Glower, who took it and sat on the armchair facing him. "Thank you."

"Hey, you're welcome," Mosely said, looking only a little uncomfortable. "This... wasn't your best day ever, eh?"

"Not quite, no," von Glower admitted before taking a sip of wine. "I must thank you again for standing up against the villagers."

Mosely shrugged. "Told you, it was nothing. But man, you  _did_  give me a scare when you let that guy putting the gun at your head. Don't do that again."

A small chuckle left von Glower. "I won't," he promised, though wondering how soon Gabriel would finally realize killing him was the only option. Now that he had to despise him, it was a given he would soon reach that conclusion. "I'm glad no one had to shoot."

"Yeah, tell me about it. I got the goosebumps at the thought of shooting - we were outnumbered as hell, so I wouldn't have gotten to shoot twice. Guess they weren't really thinking so clearly."

Von Glower sighed. "But they were right. I have my responsibilities for Tony Huber's death."

_For hers, and many others._

"Well…" Mosely scratched his cheek. "You did not do it, and it was not your intention. So it's more... accessory to manslaughter?"

"Oh, it was slaughter alright," von Glower found himself saying bitterly. "Of a young child, in broad daylight, before her own parents' eyes."

Mosely shifted. "Huh... well, still wasn't you. And it's not like smearing your brains all over Knight's door would bring anyone back. I think. Or would it? This supernatural crap is beyond me."

The chuckle that left von Glower was a little more sincere this time. "I think not."

"Yeah, guess not. I must sound like an idiot," Mosely muttered, emptying half of his glass in one go. Not how you're supposed to enjoy wine, but von Glower was hardly in the mood to point out as much.

"No, you don't," was the reply. "You're actually dealing with all this far better than most people would. This is not your first encounter with supernatural, is it?" he asked, suddenly reminded of detective Mostly's role in Gabriel's novel about the voodoo murders. "You helped Gabriel along with his first case."

"Yeah, that I did," Mosely smirked a little. "It was Twilight Zone crap, I tell you. But it was, uh… a break from routine, I guess."

"And after that you came all the way from the States to make sure he was fine, even though you knew he might be involved in some other case."

"Well, yeah. He's a pain in the ass but hey, we've got each other's back."

"That alone makes you a valuable friend and ally for Gabriel," von Glower said quietly, taking another sip of wine, which seemed to turn sour in his mouth at the thought he had lost any chance to be close to Gabriel even as a friend. "You and Miss Nakimura both."

Mosely opened his mouth to reply, but someone else got there first.

"Did you hear me coming and tried to flatter me?"

Both Mosely and von Glower glanced at the bottom of the stairs where Grace stood, clothed in her nightgown and her eyes still swollen with sleep.

"Grace. What are you doing up at this hour? Are you alright?" Mosely asked.

"No," von Glower was replying at the same time. "I was not really listening. I did not hear you coming."

Grace just nodded slightly at von Glower before turning to Mosely. "Mosely, I need to speak with the big bad wolf here. Alone."

Mosely looked a little puzzled, but he eventually just filled up his glass again and stood up with the clear intention of bringing it in his room. "Alright, guess I should try getting some sleep before I'll be off to steal a dead king's heart. You're not going to try pushing him in the fireplace or anything, right?"

Grace chuckled just a bit. "I might be tempted, but no. I just have… something to discuss with him."

"Okay then. Just…" he hesitated. "Well, take it easy, okay? 'Night," he added at von Glower before walking upstairs. Von Glower followed him with his gaze before sighing and turning to face Grace, who poured a glass of wine for herself before sitting on the same armchair Mosely had been sitting onto until a minute before.

"I take it there is something you want to discuss," he said quietly, faintly wondering if she knew, if Gabriel had told her… still, he thought not. She looked far too calm, too controlled in his presence. Had she known, she would have expected more anger... and hardly any willingness to be alone with him.

Grace drank a little before replying. "I had another of those dreams," she finally said stiffly, her gaze fixed on the glass. "About Ludwig. And you."

That wasn't a reply von Glower had been expecting. Not that he knew what to expect to begin with. "Me?" he repeated.

"Yes. You were in it, asking him to join you. He refused, and when you left… he broke down," she bit her lower lip before staring at him straight in the eyes. "You destroyed him. Did you  _know_  being Changed would destroy him?"

So that was what the talk would be about. Von Glower lowered his eyes to his glass. "No. I did not think it would turn out to be such a torment to him," he said tiredly, not lifting his gaze from his wine. "I had hoped he would-"

"Join you," Grace finished for him, her voice completely flat.

Von Glower nodded. "Yes."

"So you betrayed him to have him for yourself, and keep him out of Bismark's way," she stated, a sharp edge showing in her voice.

"Not quite. I betrayed him far before that day. I lied to him from the start, on many things," he said, turned to look at her as he spoke. "I'm sure you know by now that our meeting was not casual. I was set on him by the Prussian court. Bismark wanted him to sign the treaty, but Ludwig was far too proud, and far too enamoured of his Bavaria to accept that. I was to gain his trust, to become his confidant, and convince him to sign it. And that I did."

Grace stared back at him and nodded, slowly. "But you grew to care for him. Didn't you?"

Von Glower smiled weakly. "I soon grew to love him, yes. He was a noble soul – noble, but troubled. And in a way he already was as lonely as myself. After he signed the treaty and my work was done, I was given lands, and a title. I could go back to Prussia, start a new life with all that. But I could not will myself to leave his side. I told Bismark I was planning on staying in case he changed his mind someday and might need to be convinced once more, but I hoped he never would. The years that followed were those I remember most fondly. But then…" he paused, the faraway look in his eyes fading. "Then he began having second thoughts. He said that the treaty was the ruin of his Bavaria, that his kingdom was meant to wear its own crown."

Grace forced herself to ignore the clear trace of sadness in von Glower's voice, but she found herself unable to feel anger. Maybe it was because of the sadness the dream had left behind, maybe she was just too tired. "And you were ordered to kill him, or render him unable to rule so that he could be disposed of."

"Not right away, no," von Glower murmured. "I tried to speak to him first, to convince him that the treaty was to be kept. I tried with all the arguments I had, begged him not to tell anyone of those views, at least not immediately; I begged him to wait and think matters thoroughly before voicing his thoughts to anyone. But he must have mentioned it to someone else, for word reached Bismark. So I was given that order – convince him, kill him, or make sure he would be considered unfit to rule and deposed. And as you know, I could not convince him in any way. But I tried," his voice faded a little, and he shut his eyes. "I  _tried_."

"And you still accepted to carry out the order," she said, some coldness making it back in her voice.

"If it weren't me to get him out of the way somehow, someone else would have. I knew it would only be a matter of time. I-"

"You could have told him the truth. You could have warned him," she cut him off, and von Glower fell silent for a few moments.

"Yes," he finally said, "I could have. I  _should_  have. But I feared he'd hate me if I were to do so. I certainly deserved it, but I couldn't bear losing him."

"And you decided to make him yours. You thought that by biting him you could satisfy both Bismark and yourself," Grace stated, then, "and you also hoped he would learn to enjoy his new life and escape with you."

"That I did," he confirmed. "It was foolish of me. I was lonely and selfish, and..." his voice faded, and he fell silent for a long minute. "I condemned him because I hoped things would turn out differently. I condemned von Zell for the same reason. It was for naught, all of it. Ludwig's fate taught me nothing."

Grace bit her lower lip. "Did you do the same to von Zell, then? Did you Change him against his will?"

Von Glower shook his head. "No," he said. "I told him the truth about myself last year. We had become... close, and I thought he had absorbed enough of the philosophy, that he might be ready. I asked him if he wanted to accept the Blood first. He did. He wanted to be Changed, he wanted to be my companion: he considered it a gift. But he did not know of the risks. I kept telling myself that he was ready and that he would escape them, and I didn't tell him of the madness that could come with it should the Blood be too much for his mind. Did Garr von Zell want to become like me? Yes," he sighed, facing her again, "but he did not want to become a monster."

A long silence followed as Grace simply stared at him, speechless. It was the chiming of an old clock to startle her out of her thoughts. "At least we can fix some of the mess you made," she finally said. "We can give Ludwig peace at last, since we can take his heart. And to von Zell, I suppose, unless you destroyed-"

"I did not. I simply hid the body well. His heart was hit by a bullet, and it was enough to kill him; destroying his body was not necessary."

"I see. So we can help them now. But what of Gabriel?" she asked, anguish showing in her voice against her own will.

"Gabriel's only way out is killing me," von Glower said plainly, his gaze empty. "He will soon understand you were right all along. He'll have to accept that someday, and behave accordingly."

Grace found herself staring at him in surprise. "He… what?"

"He will simply know there is no other way out," von Glower repeated, "and perhaps my death will serve to soothe some of the Hubers' suffering."

She frowned. "You know it won't. Your death won't bring back their child," she told him a little sharply, then her tone softened. "If you think Gabriel will reach that conclusion, why are you staying? You could escape now. You could have escaped already. You had plenty of chances."

"What for?" von Glower asked with a slight shrug. "If I escape once more, if I run away, I know I'll be alone for the rest of my days. Never again I'll take the risk of Changing someone else. And I'm tired of being alone through years, decades, centuries. It wears you down in a way you cannot imagine."

"I thought you hoped Gabriel would join you," Grace pointed out.

Von Glower shut his eyes and thought back of Gabriel's furious, hurt expression upon knowing that he – someone he had trusted against all odds – had shed human blood. Von Glower used to think it was something that as a beast he was not to take responsibility for; now he knew he could no longer cling to that thought, and he feared Gabriel would never forgive him. He had lost any possibility he had thought he had of convincing him to join him – nothing but loneliness would await him if he were to live through those days.

"Not anymore, I don't," he murmured. "I'll help you at the best of my possibilities to bring Ludwig and Garr to peace. Afterwards… Gabriel will choose what to do. I'm sure he'll choose wisely. You're his friend – I trust you'll help him with his choice."

"But…" she said, staring at him and faintly wondering if he had hit his head – was he really telling her she should convince Gabriel to kill him? "What will become of your soul once you're dead?" she asked, realizing just then that she had never even thought of that.

Von Glower didn't reply right away, and Grace noticed his hands shook a little as he poured himself another glass of wine. "I suppose I'll simply wander, like Ludwig had to do," he said quietly, pausing to take a few sips of wine. "Fitting, I'd say."

Grace felt a sudden coldness in her stomach. That was a horrible fate, the kind of fate she tried so hard to save Ludwig from; they were even trying to spare that to von Zell, to the madman who had slaughtered little Tony Huber and several others. The thought of condemning the man sitting beside her to that very same torment made her uncomfortable. "Maybe we could… free your soul as well," Grace heard herself saying. "There is this ritual, you heard of it. We could-"

"No, you couldn't," he cut her off with a shake of her head. "Blood of a living relative within the seventh generation would be needed. I have no living relatives; even if I were to find any distant one, it would be far past that."

Grace stared at him for a few moments, and her uneasiness had to be showing on her face, for von Glower smiled weakly. "Do not concern yourself about me," he said gently. "My fate is either death or a life of loneliness, and nothing can change that. I've come to accept it. I guess my only regret is that I won't be able to beg for Ludwig's forgiveness," he said, and paused. "... But perhaps he still wouldn't want to face me, even in death."

The memory of her dream still vivid in her mind, she bit her lower lip and turned away. "Look, I… I don't want you dead just because, okay?" she muttered. "I don't really want you dead. I only want Gabriel to be okay. If we find another way to break the curse on him… if you're not going to Change anyone else…"

Von Glower found himself smiling a little bitterly. If she only knew what Gabriel now knew about him! "That matters not. Gabriel will eventually be free from the curse, whatever it takes," he said, "but thank you."

"It's okay," she said before falling silent, not knowing what else she was supposed to do or say – but then von Glower spoke first.

"May I ask you one thing?" he asked, gaze fixed on the still half-filled glass.

"What?"

"These… dreams you've been having. About Ludwig. Do you have them often?" he asked.

"This is only the third time," Grace replied. "The first time it was a little over a couple of months ago, right on the first night I spent in Schloss Ritter; I saw him riding that sleigh… you know, the one he'd ride at night. He helped me escape from a pack of wolves, and then turned into one himself. He was trying to let me know what I was facing, I think. Trying to let me know what happened to him."

Von Glower seemed thoughtful. "Yes, that must have his reason. He helped you along, didn't he? With the lost opera and his scheme at the theatre with the crystals. It was his idea, unless I'm mistaken. He planned that trap for me, to have me killed and free himself."

Grace bit her lower lip in thought. "Yes, that was what the scheme at the theatre was for. But I do wonder why he'd choose to do something that complex. He could have hired an assassin. He would have still had a hand in your killing, and he would have been free. Didn't you ever wonder why he never did that?"

He didn't reply right away: he finished his wine and put the glass down first. "I did, more than once. Especially since, as far as I knew until a few days ago, no scheme to end my life ever existed. Ludwig knew that by ordering my murder he would have been freed from the curse; of course, he knew I'm not so easy to kill and that I might have escaped a simple assassination attempt with relative ease – but why didn't he even try? That I don't know. I can only guess," he said, and turned to glance at her. "You do have a guess of your own, don't you, Miss Nakimura?"

Grace nodded. "Yes. I think he didn't downright order you killed because he couldn't bring himself to," she said softly "you were still a… an obsession to him, until his last breath. When he killed himself, he cursed you to hell. But he still referred to you as his love," she gave a small, sad sigh, reaching to run a hand through her hair. "When he realized music, along with properly placed crystals, had the power to trigger the Change, he decided to use it to make you turn into a wolf right in front of everyone – someone would shoot you as a reaction, no doubt. That was his plan. He would simply make you reveal your true nature in public and let someone else deal with you accordingly, without having to utter your death sentence himself. Is that what you think as well?"

He slowly nodded. "Yes," he said quietly, "that his what I think. And in a way, I suppose that plan fit very well with the man Ludwig was. Complicated and apparently illogic, but perfectly planned out and even beautiful in a tragic sort of way. It truly didn't surprise me to know it was actually him to come up with such a scheme." Von Glower stared ahead for a few moments, as though lost in through, then he sighed. "And what of the other times you dreamed him?"

"Well…" Grace murmured, shaking the melancholy off herself, and she had to clear her throat before she could speak more clearly. "After that it was Gabriel to dream him while unconscious, after being bitten. In the dream, Ludwig showed him where he had hidden the parts of the opera, and the diagram. I only dreamed of him again after the plan had failed. The night before I made you read his…" her voice faded for a moment, but then she kept speaking. "I dreamed we were back in the theatre. He asked me why hadn't I helped him, why hadn't I saved him. And then we were on the lake where he killed himself, and I saw his suicide..."

Her voice broke, and a long silence followed. "And tonight you dreamed of my attempts to ask him to leave the court and join me," he finally murmured.

"Yes. But I don't understand what he's trying to tell me this time."

"I think he's simply asking you not to give up on him," von Glower suggested, "to help him finding peace at long last, now that we know there is another chance for him. He's asking not to be forgotten."

"As if I could," Grace muttered with a sigh before shaking her head a little, as though to clear her thoughts. "Why did you ask about my dreams anyway?"

Von Glower stayed silent for a few more moments before replying. "When we first met in the cell downstairs," he said slowly, "I got the impression something was off with your resentment against me. Don't get me wrong – you had, and still have, all rights to hate me – but all that anger seemed just too much from someone I hadn't personally harmed. And I wondered if it all of it was from you in the first place."

Grace frowned. "What are you getting at?"

He made a vague gesture with his hand. "Let's put it this way – you and Ludwig developed a bond; that's what allows him to appear in your dreams and guide you. You opened your soul to his, and he opened his to yours. Don't you think this might mean he has some kind of… influence on you?"

The question made Grace stare at him for a whole minute before she could reply. "You mean that he could… control me, or something?" she asked slowly.

"Not quite, no," von Glower corrected her. "Your actions are still your own. Your free will wasn't hindered. It is just your emotions he might influence, perhaps without meaning it. Do you think it might be possible?"

She stayed silent another minute, staring ahead in thought. She thought back of the melancholy she had felt when in Ludwig's room in Neuschwanstein while looking in the mirror, of the deep sadness and sense of helplessness as she stood on the banks of the lake where he had killed himself – and of the hatred she had felt for von Glower, for the black wolf, when the plan had failed: had all of those emotions been wholly hers, and hers alone?

_No_.

Grace swallowed and turned to him. "I… I think you might be right," she finally said. How come she had never thought of it? Had she stopped to think about it with a cool mind, she would have realized she was far too eager to have Gabriel killing him that she probably should have, to the point that she had been reluctant to even wait a little to find out if another way out could be possible. Could it be that…? "Do you think Ludwig was hoping that by somehow…  _pressing_  me into having Gabriel killing you he could be freed?" she asked.

"That's a possibility," von Glower admitted. "He must have been desperate after the scheme at the theatre,  _his_  scheme, failed. For him to be free he had to have a hand in my demise. But now something changed – now we know of another way to save him. You seemed far less hostile to me tonight than you've ever been."

"Because Ludwig could never truly hate you. He wouldn't want you killed if it's not necessary," she murmured. "And now… now it isn't anymore."

Von Glower smiled a bit. "Not to save him, no. But for Gabriel it will be."

"Only because you don't now of any other way it doesn't mean there isn't," Grace pointed out, her eyes narrowing a little. "You didn't know of the ritual to free a deceased werewolf's soul, but it exists and now we know it. There could be another way. Give us a chance to try."

A chuckle escaped him. "That's quite a change of attitude, Miss Nakimura."

"Things changed," she retorted, then she tried to smile a little, "and I guess that at some point I had to give up and admit that Gabriel will never be convinced to kill you now."

A bitter expression crossed von Glower's features at the thought that perhaps Gabriel was in the process of changing his mind already now that he knew the truth, but he managed to hide it. "I suppose that for now we should simply focus on helping Ludwig. He's been suffering for far too long, and I wouldn't want to ruin his chance now. We'll think of what should be done with me once both him and Garr-" he trailed off as a sudden thought hit him, his eyes widening a little.

"What is it?" Grace asked, puzzled.

"Garr," von Glower muttered, getting up from the armchair as though something had just bitten him before pacing back and forth across the room. "He's got to be somewhere in-between, too: a wandering spirit, like Ludwig is."

"I… guess that could be," Grace said, trying not to think of the fact that old book about lycanthropes read that any werewolf that tasted human blood would be damned to hell right away – but on the other hand, who knew if that was true? It wasn't like whoever wrote it ever saw it himself. "That's likely, at least. Why are you…?"

"Ludwig could communicate with you through dreams," von Glower said, still restlessly pacing across the room. "He could guide you, and his connection to you could influence your emotions and sensations in some way, isn't that right?"

"Yes, that's what we established. Why do you-" Grace began, then she trailed off. "… Wait. Do you think von Zell could be able to do the same thing? That he could have established a connection to someone?" she asked, getting up herself. "Are you thinking of…?"

"Yes!" he stopped pacing to stand in front of her. "Think of it – a close relative of his shows up in Rittersberg. She seems to be sure something is wrong with von Zell's death, and wants answers from Gabriel himself. She has a strong dislike for him for apparently no reason. And she's restless, she's prone to anger, she behaves like a caged animal – and she keeps eating, always hungry, never sated: all the traits of someone who's getting through the Change. And yet she is not a werewolf, she's not a cursed soul: she's  _connected_  to one, and this influences her mood and emotions so much more than Ludwig influenced yours because the spirit who's now connected to her died so recently and is so closely related to her.  _Von Zell_  set her on Gabriel's trail. He wants her to find out what truly happened, and perhaps to find a way to help him.  _He_  is the reason why Elsa Schröder showed at Gabriel's doorstep: he's guiding her to the truth the same way Ludwig guided you."

Grace considered his words. Yes, it fit, all of it. "You could be right," she said. "We have to tell Gabriel about it. If von Zell can really communicate to her somehow she could really find out the truth, and we better speak to her before she does and reveals any of this to… well, to anyone. Maybe she'll even cooperate once we tell her we want to help her uncle. We could use her blood for the ritual as soon as we know something more about-"

"Not sure convincing her will be that easy. But hey, that's a good explanation. Fits right with that charming Rottweiler personality," Gabriel's voice came from the stairs, causing Grace to trail off and both of them to look up at him. He was almost to the bottom of the stairs, clearly having dressed himself hastily, his hair still tousled from sleep – but the dark shadows under his eyes made it clear his sleep had not been easy, if there had been any.

"Gabriel," she said. "How long…?"

"A few minutes. I heard enough," Gabriel said with a shrug, only looking at Grace as though he hadn't even noticed von Glower's presence. "I got a great hearing as a side affect, and you sure didn't bother to be quiet right now. At least there wasn't any bloodshed. From  _either_  side," he added, his voice growing just a little colder, and his eyes briefly turned to von Glower, who bit his lower lip at the anger and hurt that still showed in Gabriel's gaze.

Grace didn't seem to notice, clearly too caught up with planning out their next move; von Glower couldn't help but admire her practical mind. "Great, so you know already. I…  _we_  were thinking that the sooner we get to talk to her about this, the better it is. If she finds out the truth before that, she might not trust as at all."

Gabriel made a face. "Yeah, but I can't say I look forward to dealing with her again. And with von Zell, for extent."

An exasperated snort left her. "Gabriel, this is  _important_. We could need he."

"I know, I know," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Tell you what, I'll give Harry a call tomorrow and ask him if he can look up for her address and phone number and stuff."

"Harry?" Grace repeated.

"Harold Übergrau. Y'know, the family lawyer. His son, actually, but he takes his job seriously. He'd try his best to get me the Queen of England's crown if I asked for it," he said with a chuckle. "He even helped me out with a little translation about, well, my last case. I can trust him to do as I ask and keep his mouth shut about it, so I bet we'll have the Rottweiler's address and phone number by tomorrow afternoon, if not sooner. If she's so eager to find out the truth, I bet she won't be sayin' no to another chat."

Grace nodded. "Sounds like a good idea."

"Sure, it's mine," Gabriel gave her a cocky grin, causing her to roll her eyes.

"Yes, whatever," she muttered before yawning. "Guess I'm off. I have to get up early tomorrow to see this practitioner _._ I just hope the ritual won't turn out to be too complicated."

"Yeah, same here, on both things. I'm off, too. 'Night, Gracie," he said lightly before turning and walking upstairs again. The sound of the door of his room closing echoed even downstairs, followed by a few moments of silence.

"I guess we should all try to get some sleep," Grace finally commented, still so busy mulling over what Elsa's contact with von Zell's soul could mean for them and their plan that she didn't seem to have even noticed how Gabriel hadn't even looked in von Glower's direction again, how he hadn't even spoken to him once. Von Glower was grateful for that: at least he wouldn't have to answer to any questions.

He simply nodded. "I agree. I think I'll retire as well in a few minutes."

Grace glanced at him. "Is insomnia something else that comes with the curse?" she asked in a half-hearted attempt to joke that made von Glower smile a little: now that Gabriel was so cold – and had all rights to be, he though with some sadness – it didn't feel bad at all getting to speak to other people who did not want to spill his blood, or at least not anymore.

"I simply have some things on my mind," was all he said, turning to glance at the fireplace again. Grace seemed to understand his mute request to be left alone, for she just turned and walked upstairs without saying another word.

For long hours the gentle crackling of the fire was the only noise in the room. Von Glower stared into the fireplace throughout most of the night, until the fire was gone and nothing but glowing embers were left, thinking of the despair in Ludwig's eyes, the madness in von Zell's, the anger and hurt in Gabriel's, the fear that must have been in little Toni Huber's in her last instants – and by dawn he found himself wondering if it wouldn't have been for the best if his life had ended in flames and smoke the very same night his father's had.

* * *

"I take it I'm dreaming again.  _Please_ , tell me I'm just dreaming again."

Elsa's voice sounded faint to her own ears, but she didn't take notice: she was far too busy looking around to try figuring out where the hell she was. It was an elegant living room with a high ceiling; most of the furniture was apparently made of carved wood, and it looked very expensive, though not nearly as much as the carpets on the floor.

A great place to stay, but Elsa was sure she had never been there before – not to mention that last thing she remembered was falling asleep in her own apartment, so it had to be a dream, right? She was about to pinch herself to be sure, but she froze as she caught sight of something in front of her: a mirror, a large mirror that took a large part of one of the walls. She could see her reflection and that of the room's furniture, but it wasn't that that made her stare at the mirror with widened eyes.

She wasn't alone in that reflection.

Elsa turned so quickly that there wouldn't have been any time for anyone to hide, but nobody was in the room with her – much less  _him_. Still, as she turned to look at the reflection once more, nothing had changed – von Zell was still standing behind her dressed in what she supposed were his hunting clothes, his expression unreadable.

_Well, no need of pinching now. This has got to be a dream._

Still, she found herself speaking, eyes still fixed on the mirror. "What the hell happened to you?" she asked the reflection. "I'm trying to figure it out, but damn you, you've got to help me out!"

He said nothing, staring at her through – of from? – the mirror.

"Say  _something_! You could speak last time!" she growled in frustration.

Garr von Zell stared at her for a few more moments, then he turned to his left and walked away, disappearing from the mirror.

"Hey! Come back!" Elsa called out, reaching to touch the mirror's cool surface, but it didn't feel any different as a normal mirror's. Where had he gone? She sighed and turned to the direction he had vanished to – the direction he would have taken had he truly been standing beside her and had she truly been looking at a reflection – to see a door leading to a hallway. Oh well, she thought to herself, it wasn't like she had any other leads.

It turned out her guess was right after all: as soon as she stepped into the hallway – which was as dark as the living room had been bright, she noticed – the light was suddenly switched on in a room at her left, whose door was ajar. Elsa walked up to it and pushed it open.

What she found inside was a study, with a large wooden desk against one wall – and sitting at the desk, with his back to her, was von Zell. He didn't turn as she approached, his gaze fixed on something on his desk; he only turned when she was standing by his side and could see that what he was looking at was a map. He looked up at her and nodded towards the map, his finger tracing a small writing on the upper right corner of the map – Nationalpark Bayerischer Wald. The Bavarian National Forest.

"That's where you went missing," Elsa stated.

"It's where I was killed," Von Zell spoke, his voice so filled with rage that for a moment it sounded like a growl.

Elsa found herself unable to breathe for a moment. So it was true, she was right – Garr von Zell had been killed. "Who?" she asked.

This time von Zell offered no reply: he just turned back to the map and tapped a spot with a finger, where – she noticed – two rivers seemed to join into one. "Find me," von Zell rasped.

She swallowed. "Do you mean it's there? Your body…?"

Again, von Zell gave her no answer. He just folded the map and pulled back a little to open a drawer and put the map in it, then he leaned on the desk and shut his eyes. "Find me," he repeated, his voice now weaker.

Elsa tried to speak, to reach out to shake him and ask him once more who had it been to kill him, but a moment later her eyes snapped open and she found herself staring at the ceiling of her room, her right arm still stretched out.


	11. Ludwig

Saying that Elsa didn't get much sleep until morning would have been an understatement: she didn't get to sleep one single minute. Until dawn, she stayed up to try figuring out what the dream meant – it had to mean  _something_ , because if she had suspected those were more than just dreams after seeing that Knight she knew they were so much more than just that – and, most of all, what she should do next.

The police was out of question, that much she knew. She doubted saying anything along the lines of 'let's search here because I saw him in a dream and he told me he had been killed and then said his body was there by pointing at a map and asking me to find him' would get her anywhere save from a psychiatric ward. If she wanted to find out anything, if she wanted to find him, she was going to have to do so without the police. And of course, her family was just as out of question as the police.

"I'm on my own," she said aloud before taking a drag from her cigarette, gazing out of the window as the cold grey light of dawn began creeping on the city. "Some fucking news."

But that wasn't entirely true, was it? Garr von Zell was definitely on her side, and she was sure she could get help from Wilhelm, too… as long as he didn't know what she was up to. Knowing him, he'd get worried for her and call the police eventually. But it made no matter: he would make himself useful in other ways. Elsa glanced at the phone, wondering if he had already found the information he had asked him to find about Baron von Glower, but she didn't pick it up: she doubted she would get anything intelligible out of him so early in the morning. Not to mention that, if he had any information worth sharing, he would call her first.

Besides, now she had to focus on something else – on the dream. She shut her eyes and thought back of the map. Two rivers joining into one; there couldn't be many of those in the Bavarian National Forest, right?

_You're deluding yourself, Elsa. There's got to be a lot more than just two._

She sighed and opened her eyes. Well, there went her idea of just buying any map of the forest: the one she had seen in her dream was rather detailed, clearly showing only a section of the forest, and hell knew what section that was. To see exactly what point her uncle was trying to guide her to, she was going to need the same exact map he had showed her. Which meant she had to find said map first.

Elsa frowned and focused on the house she had been into in her dream, hoping something in it would feel familiar, but nothing did: she had never been there. "So I have to take a guess," she muttered to herself before taking another drag of the cigarette. She exhaled the smoke slowly, absentmindedly letting the butt fall into the half-filled glass had taken using as an ashtray. Thinking about it with a clear mind, the first option that came to her mind was that it could be Garr von Zell's own home – Elsa vaguely knew he owned an apartment not too far from the centre of Munich, having left his parents' residence as soon as he could… and no wonder he had, she mused with a dry laugh: no matter how treasured Garr was, Erich von Zell had been someone whose company she wouldn't wish to anyone. Except, perhaps, her own mother.

Yes, that had to be it: after all, in what other place would someone keep maps of the forest where they went hunting almost every weekend if not their own house? The only other option she could think of would be the hunting lodge, but that sure looked nothing like a hunting lodge. Not to mention she had seen pictures of the one her uncle had disappeared form, and it looked nothing like that.

_Fine, let's say for the sake of argument the map is in his house, in his study inside the second drawer – how are you planning on getting in?_

Elsa frowned in though. "I need to know where it is," she said slowly to the empty room, "and I can ask Wilhelm to check that. There might be spare keys somewhere. If there's any, then… then grandmother should have it."

Which meant, of course, that she was going to get the keys from her, given that she had any. The mere though of having to walk in the mansion where her now senile grandmother and her mother lived made her stomach turn: she was in no rush at all to meet either. But it wasn't like she had much of a choice, she thought with a sigh. It looked like she was on to a fun morning; she hoped Garr von Zell, or his ghost or whatever, would have the good grace to appreciate that.

In any case, she mused, you've got to admire a man who can be such a pain in the ass even after his death.

* * *

"I can't  _believe_  Mose chose today to get sick," Gabriel muttered with a frown. "I mean, c'mon – he's been eating the worst garbage possible for years, and  _now_  that he's got a royal heart to pick up his stomach acts up because of one würstel too many? _Give me a break!"_

Grace rolled her eyes. "No need to stress out, I can do that," she said. "I can go to the shrine before the appointment with the practitioner. Not that I love the idea of having to walk around with a heart in my purse, but… what?" she asked as she saw Gabriel shuffling his feet a little, avoiding to look at her.

"I, uh…" he smiled a little sheepishly. "I'm afraid you can't do that."

She scowled. "I can't?" she repeated. "In case you forgot, I already got a diagram out of that same urn. I can also take the heart. All I need is some silver body part to-" she trailed off and stared at Gabriel – who, on the other hand, was still grinning sheepishly. "Gabriel," she said slowly, suddenly reminded of his comment on how he was going to get a special offer for Mosely to give to get inside the shrine. "Exactly  _what_  body part is it you got made for Mosely?"

Gabriel reached to take something in his pocket and held it out on the palm of his hand. Grace stared. And stared. And  _stared_. "Gabriel," she finally said slowly. "This is  _the_  most idiotic thing you've ever done. And that's saying an awful lot."

He grinned cheekily. "Well, thinking about it, you could still pull it off. I mean, you can say you're actually there to pray for your boyfriend's recovery, or just that it's for you-"

"Gabriel," she cut him off. "Read my lips: I  _refuse_  to walk into the shrine of Altötting with that  _thing_. You either get something else as an offer, or you and the big bad wolf will have to get the heart by yourselves."

Gabriel dropped his shoulders. "But I can't go," he said. "Not that I wouldn't if I could, mind you, but, y'know, I can't. The meeting with the mayor and all. I have no idea when they'll let me go, so there's only you or Gerde or…" he paused and glanced down at the silver penis in his hand. "… Or the big bad wolf," he finished. "Good thinking, Gracie," he added with a somewhat feral grin as he patted her shoulder and walked upstairs.

"Gabriel, are you serious?" Grace called out after him, sounding mildly concerned.

"Sure I am. Time he makes himself useful. He's got  _plenty_  of stuff to make up for," he added somewhat grimly before walking up to the door of von Glower's bedroom. He opened without knocking, and he was taken aback by the sight of the huge black wolf resting on the carpet in front of the fireplace, muzzle resting on its enormous paws before the creature lifted its massive head to turn to the door, ears perked up. Orange eyes locked with Gabriel's, and for a moment Gabriel found himself thinking that those eyes had been one of the very last things the creature's victim had seen before powerful jaws closed around their neck and sharp fangs tore their throat out.

The memory of the rotting bodies in the pit made him clench his jaw and scowl. "There's something you've got to do," he finally said coldly. "And it would be great if I could speak to someone who can speak back."

The black wolf looked at him only for another moment before standing – good God, it was almost the size of a damn pony – and a moment later a guttural sound left its throat as something began shifting and snapping and  _changing_  beneath the creature's fur. Gabriel stared in morbid fascination as the bones and muscles and tendons changed shape and direction, the snout shortened until it flattered into a human face and the fur retreated, leaving a man's skin in its wake. In a few instants where the black wolf had stood was von Glower, knelt on the carpet and – a part of Gabriel's brain seemed all too happy to acknowledge – naked.

Gabriel frowned, forcing himself to stare at von Glower's face and his face  _only_. "The hell was that about?" he asked sharply. Why would von Glower take his wolf form inside Schloss Ritter?

Von Glower stood, avoiding his gaze. "My apologies," he said quietly, "but as you might have noticed, as a wolf human thoughts are… much less complex. I sometimes do take my beastly form when my thoughts won't give me rest."

Gabriel's scowl deepened. "So much for thinking things through long and hard," he said. "You run away again instead. As always," he added bitterly, and for a moment he wasn't sure whether he was referring to von Glower or to himself.

Von Glower shook his head. "I did think, Gabriel. All night long. I thought about… a lot of things," he said, his gaze still fixed in the fireplace. "And I know I'm still far from done. But I couldn't take it anymore. Not without allowing myself at least a hour's rest," he added, turning to look at him, and Gabriel didn't miss the dark shadows under his eyes. He sure hadn't gotten a minute of sleep that night, and he seemed far from feeling any better about himself.

Gabriel bit his lower lip. He was still furious at him, of course – how could he  _not_  be? – and he couldn't stop thinking of all the people Friedrich had slaughtered in his long life, but on the other hand… damn, after Malia's death he had found out just what kind of hell it is when your own thoughts give you no rest and thinking over and over what you did wrong and will never be able to make right means running in circles and only hurting yourself.

Von Glower deserved all of it, but Gabriel couldn't blame him for trying to calm his mind for at least a while; he supposed that turning into a creature capable of much less complex thoughts was no different from Gabriel's habit of sitting down and writing and writing and writing until he lost himself in the blank page he was filling. And there had been times when Gabriel was sure working on his novel after the vodoo murders had been the only thing that kept him from going insane.

"Yeah, guess a break was needed," he finally muttered, and he was almost alarmed by the somewhat grateful glance von Glower gave him. He scowled again. "Don't get too comfy, though. I was serious when I said there's something you've got to do. Mosely is sick, and he can't go get Ludwig's heart. Since it was you to land his royal ass in eternal torment, the less you could do-" he trailed off at von Glower's slight, imperceptible wince, the almost inaudible hitch of his breath – when had his eyesight and hearing turned that damn  _great_? – and, after a moment's silence, he sighed. "Well, damn, listen to me. I'm being a complete asshole. Like you didn't  _know_  what you did to him."

"I didn't pay nearly enough for it," was von Glower's reply.

"Yeah, but there's no point in just reminding you-"

"You are giving me a chance to set right at least some of the wrong I did," von Glower interrupted him quietly. "For that I must thank you. If anything could make me feel better, it's that."

Gabriel stared at him for a few moments. "So… what happened to wrong and right not existing?"

Von Glower gave a small, bitter smile. "I suppose you could say that's one of the things I had to think through."

"I… yeah. Guess so," Gabriel cleared his throat. "... Anyway, we need you to go get Ludwig's heart from the shrine of… uh. What's the name again?"

"Altötting."

"Right. So, Grace told me the right urn is-"

"I know which one it is," von Glower said, and gave another bitter smile at Gabriel's look. "I was there before. To pay my respects."

"Ah. I see," Gabriel said a little awkwardly before he forced himself to speak as coldly as he could again. "Anyway… yeah, that's it. We need you to go get the heart and bring it back here; Grace will go ask about the ritual to someone who's into this kind of stuff. You can take Mosely's car to get to the shrine. After we know what the ritual is about, we'll focus on getting von Zell's heart, too. Though, I, uh… guess it won't be pretty," he added. Von Zell had been dead for well past two months; his corpse had to be rotting by now, and unlike Ludwig's, his heart sure hadn't been treated. They had better hope the ritual didn't need a  _fresh_  heart, he though, and for a moment he thought back of Wolfgang's heart still weakly beating on the stone altar in the snake mound in Africa. He quickly chased away the memory.

"It certainly won't be pleasant, but you don't need to worry about that," von Glower was saying. "I'll take care of it myself. I do believe you had more than your fill of decaying corpses because of me."

Yeah, Gabriel totally agreed on that. "Great. But now let's focus on Ludwig's, okay?"

Von Glower nodded. "Alright. I'm going to need an offer to get inside the shrine. A silver-"

"A silver representation of the body part you supposedly have to get healed, yeah," Gabriel grinned and held out his hand. "I've got it ready. Well, it was meant for Mose, but… here it is."

Much like Grace downstairs, for the next several seconds von Glower said nothing and simply stared at the silver penis on Gabriel's palm. Gabriel kept up the grin, but he could feel his cheeks burning as the other man finally looked up at his face, a slightly puzzled look on his face. "I… see," von Glower finally said.

Gabriel cleared his throat. "Well, yeah, it was kinda… meant to be a joke. On Mose. He doesn't  _really_  have that kind of problems. I  _think_  he doesn't. Not sure. Never checked. Not that I want to," he added quickly.

_Stop talking._

"So, uh, you just walk in and show the priest this and… well, hey, a prayer or two to make sure it keeps working can't hurt, right? I mean…" Gabriel's eyes fell for just one instant on the body part in question. Friedrich's nakedness sure wasn't helping matters. He forced himself to look elsewhere.

_Gabriel. Stop talking._

"… Okay, I think I'm just gonna shut up now. Just take the dick and-" he snapped his mouth shut, dropped his shoulders and groaned, his face burning so much he could swear he was about to catch fire.

_Oh, Christ._

Von Glower was quick to get him out of trouble. "I can leave immediately if so you wish," he said, reaching to take the silver penis from Gabriel's hand. "The only trouble might be leaving. I'd have to get through Rittersberg to head to Altötting, if I'm not mistaken, and I'm under the impression seeing me leaving like that wouldn't be appreciated."

Gabriel frowned in thought, somewhat thankful for the occasion to focus on something that wasn't a silver dick, or anyone's dick for the matter. "Hey, good question. We could… you remember the passage, right? The one on the hillside?"

"Yes."

"You could turn into a wolf and run down there. There is a road heading in that direction. I'll ask Gerde to get the car there, with your clothes and the, uh… the token and stuff inside. You'll probably need something to put the heart into. She'll leave the car with the stuff right outside Rittersberg so that you can take it and drive to the shrine. When you get back, just leave the car in the same place and come back to the secret passage. I'll pick up the car later."

Von Glower nodded. "It sounds like a good idea. In this case, you should give this to Gerde along with some of my clothes and container to put the heart into," he said, handing the silver penis back to Gabriel, who took it while pretending to be incredibly interested in the carpet. "Is there anything else I can do?"

_Yeah, turn back into a wolf or put some pants on._

"Uh… no. You can get going," he eventually said. "Gerde will be there soon with the car and the stuff you need. Try not to eat anyone on your way," he added coldly, more to get a grip on himself than because he actually believed von Glower was on to kill anyone. Had he thought so, von Glower would only leave that place once dead.

Von Glower lowered his gaze. "Never again," Gabriel heard him murmuring before bones and muscles began shifting and rippling beneath his skin, and he fell on his knees once more, his eyes flashing orange. Gabriel stared at fur covered his skin again, hands and feet turned into paws and the face turned into a snout. The creature flattened its ears and gave a soft whine as the Change was complete – it hurt like hell, Gabriel could recall that much – before it rose on its paws and padded to the door to head downstairs, where the secret passage was; it didn't exactly escape Gabriel how its ears stayed flattened on its skull and the tail hung low, beneath the belly.

He shook his head a little to get rid of any regret he might have felt – von Glower had killed people for centuries, dammit, getting the cold shoulder from him was the  _least_  he deserved – and followed the creature just in time to see Grace and Gerde, who had been talking downstairs, suddenly stop talking and step back, widened eyes fixed on the black wolf.

"It's okay!" he called out, quickly getting downstairs. "He's on to go get Ludwig's heart. But he can't just walk out and take the car, so we kinda have to do this differently. Gerde, can you get in Mosely's car a bag and a jar he can carry the heart into, some clothes for him, and, uh… this?" he asked, handing her the silver penis he had wrapped in an handkerchief he had noticed on von Glower's nightstand before walking out, and hoping it would be enough to keep her from realizing what it was.

Gerde nodded, recovering form her surprise and scare pretty quickly. "Of course," she said, reaching to take the object. "What for?"

"He'll take the secret passage and go down the hill. He'll be waiting on the side of the road that passes over there. It's not too far. Just bring the car and stuff there, leave the keys in and get back. He'll take it from there," he added, and Gerde nodded before turning to do as she had been instructed.

Grace relaxed a little and shot another glance at the black wolf before glaring at Gabriel. "You could have  _warned_ , you know."

Gabriel grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I know. Sorry, it was a last minute ide-" he trailed off and glanced up as a groan came from upstairs. "Mose isn't doing so well, eh?"

"Is that an attempt at changing subject?" Grace asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nah, not really, I just heard-" he trailed off. "Wait, you mean you didn't hear that?"

"Hear what?"

Oh, Gabriel thought, right. His hearing was getting damn good. "Nothing," he finally said. "Anyway, it was a last minute idea. Sorry you got scared."

Grace snorted a little. "He didn't scare me, I was just surprised," she pointed out, and Gabriel had to admit that, if anything, von Glower was having the good grace to look unthreatening; not that it was difficult since, with flattened ears and low tail, he looked everything like a monstrous dog wanting to crawl in a hole and hide.

"Well, whatever. Sorry anyway."

She just nodded and looked down at von Glower. "So… you're going to get Ludwig's heart," she finally said somewhat hesitantly, not having really ever been the kind to speak to animals, let alone wolves.

The beast moved its huge head in what might have looked like a nod, a small whine leaving its throat.

"… Do you even know what token you're going to have to use?" Grace asked, and this time the only reply she needed was the glance the beast snuck up at Gabriel for a moment – it wasn't looking too happy.

Gabriel shifted. "Hey, I already told you it was a joke, and it wasn't meant for you, and… well, you look  _nothing_  like a kicked puppy. Stop trying," he added, folding his arms.

The beast gave something that sounded a lot like a sigh, and Gabriel had to force himself to scowl, to remind himself that the beast standing in front of him was responsible of hell knew how many deaths. "You know, we wouldn't have to do nothing of this if you hadn't cursed him in the first place," he finally said coldly before walking to the secret passage to open it for von Glower. "Come, let's not make Gerde wait."

The huge wolf followed him, head still hanging low, and stepped through the passage. Gabriel closed it behind it and moved to the window, and instants later he could see the huge black wolf running down the hillside, to the road he had told him of.

"That was unnecessary," Grace spoke behind him.

He blinked, turning to look at her. "What?" he asked.

"He sure didn't need to be reminded. About Ludwig," Grace pointed out. "What's gotten into you?"

Gabriel stared at her for a few moments, and he realized that Grace, like Gerde and Mosely, knew nothing about von Glower's kills: he hadn't told anyone. She thought his only crimes had been cursing Ludwig and von Zell in hopes to get a companion and… wait, hadn't that been enough for her to be furious at him until the previous day? "Say, Gracie, when  _was_  it we switched sides?" he asked, scratching his head.

Grace smiled a little. "Guess it's just fate we disagree," she said, then, "we had a talk last night. Von Glower and I. We talked a few things through, and…" A pause. "I'm glad we did. And I'm glad you didn't kill him. There's got to be some other way."

Gabriel stared. "Do werewolf powers include mind control?" he finally asked.

Grace rolled her eyes. "Not those of the living ones, at least. I told you, we just had a talk. Speaking of which, you're supposed to be down in Rittersberg to speak to the mayor and the others – and I have a practitioner to visit. Looks like the only lucky one to get a break here is Mosely."

Another light groan reached Gabriel's ears. "Somehow, I don't think he'd agree."

"This will teach him to chew before he swallows, at least," Grace said lightly, reaching to take the car keys. "I'm going. Hope we'll both be back here with good news."

Gabriel made a face. "All three of us," he muttered as Grace walked out. He turned to look outside the window, but he could no longer see the black wolf – von Glower was certainly hiding among trees at the side of the road as he waited for Gerde to show up with the car. For a moment he found himself wondering how many people had he ambushed in a similar way before he tore out their throats, and the thought was enough to send an icy chill down his spine.

* * *

It was cloudy when von Glower pulled the car to a stop near the shrine of Altötting. The air was fresh, and smelled of rain already. Ludwig had never truly appreciated that kind of weather, von Glower found himself thinking wistfully – if it had to rain he would have rather had a storm, powerful and unpredictable, with thunder and lighting. For a moment the memory of storm that had interrupting their hunting and had resulted with them spending most of the day at the hunting shack in front of the fire almost made it back to his mind, but he willed himself to chase it away.

He wouldn't lose time: that was the moment to finally righting the wrong he had done to Ludwig so many years before, not the moment to cling to memories – or to dignity, he thought with a weak chuckle as he reached to take the silver penis he was meant to offer at the shrine. He put the object inside his pocket, grabbed the bag – a worn-out one that certainly belonged to Gabriel – and walked to the entrance to the shrine. He could see people coming out from it as he approached: it looked like the function was over, and he could get inside to offer his token… and approach the urn where Ludwig's heart was.

"Excuse me," he called out when he saw a priest standing near the entrance. "Is it possible to go inside?"

The man nodded. "Oh, of course you can now that the function is over," he said. "Are you here to pray the Black Madonna?"

Von Glower nodded. "I do have a token to offer her, yes," he said, hoping he wouldn't have to pull it out of his pocket in front of him.

"Oh, very well, then," the priest said pleasantly. "Do follow me."

Von Glower followed him inside, and noticed a small basket on a table that was most certainly meant for offers: there was some money in it. For a moment he wished he had thought of stopping home for just enough time to get some cash, and perhaps some of his own clothes, but he pushed the thought aside – he had to get the heart first and foremost. He could pick up some of his belongings on his way back, after all.

A sense of uneasiness settled in his chest as the priest finally led him downstairs, to the actual shrine, and as he walked in he could see the urn containing Ludwig's heart – a heart he had felt beating against his skin so many times when they held each other close, so close that they couldn't tell when one's body ended and the other's began and didn't really care to. The memory caused a painful twinge in von Glower's chest, and he quickly looked away from the urn to glance at the shrine of the Black Madonna.

He had never given much thought to religion after some time in his youth, when he still could not accept the Beast, when he had been furious to God – or whatever entity there might be – for the fate he had been condemned to before he was even born. Such feelings had died out soon enough after he had learned to appreciate his nature, however, and it was a good thing, for it might have caused some clashing with a man as devoted as Ludwig was: it was no coincidence he had wanted his heart to be put inside the shrine of the Black Madonna, after all. And who knew – perhaps, hadn't he been so devoted, his new condition wouldn't have been so odious to him. Perhaps he would have learned to-

"Here we are," the priest spoke again, snapping him from his thoughts, and von Glower realized he was still standing with him in front of the shrine… and in front of the small crate where silver tokens were to be put. Von Glower nodded at him with a polite smile, hoping he would just turn and leave – but he did not. It looked like he would stay there until he gave the token and began praying, no matter how much von Glower had hoped otherwise.

Oh, well. He should get through with it, von Glower thought with a sigh, faintly wondering if Ludwig could see him now; if so, was it so unlikely thinking he could be amused by the situation? As he pulled the silver penis out of his pocket and put it in the basket, Von Glower found himself thinking it probably wasn't even much of a stretch. He turned to glance at the priest, faintly hoping he hadn't seen well what kind of item he had just put in the basket, but it was clear he had seen it perfectly, for he was now staring at the basket with rather puzzled expression on his face.

Yes, von Glower thought, if he could see him Ludwig was most certainly laughing by now. He just hoped the priest wouldn't think he was trying to disrespect the shrine and that he genuinely needed to pray for the healing of… well. He couldn't believe he was hoping he would think  _that_.

After a few long moments the priest finally tore his gaze away from the basket and looked back at him. "Good luck," he said almost solemnly, putting a hand on his shoulder, and von Glower suddenly felt immensely grateful that nobody was there to witness.

"I… thank you," he said, avoiding eye contact and turning to the shrine as though about to pray, and the other man pulled his hand off his shoulder. Von Glower knelt in front of the shrine, joined hands and shut his eyes, pretending to be praying; his sensitive ears heard the priest lingering for a few moments and then leaving, his steps resounding on the stairs. He listened for another minute to make sure he was far enough – he was, he could hear him walking on the upper floor – and that no one else was coming in. When he was certain there would be no interruptions for at least a few minutes, he opened his eyes and stood.

He briefly glanced at the image of the Black Madonna, but he immediately turned away; the memory of how devoted Ludwig had been to her and how often he had prayed her for intercession for his soul after being cursed made him uncomfortable. Besides, that was not the moment to indulge in memories – whatever they may be.

Von Glower turned once more to look at the urn he was after, the one containing Ludwig's heart. He moved quickly, ears still straining to catch the slightest noise of someone possibly approaching: he reached up to take the urn, pulled it down its alcove, opened it and, after only a moment's hesitation, reached inside it.

"Ludwig," von Glower found himself murmuring as his fingers closed around the heart. It had been embalmed along with his body, so it was almost the size a human heart should be. He pulled it out of the urn slowly, his own heart beating somewhere in his throat. "I'm sorry," he heard himself murmuring. "I'm so sorry."

And then, for just an instant, some kind of breeze blew through the room apparently coming from nowhere; it died down so quickly that von Glower would have thought he had imagined it hadn't it been for then unmistakable way the light of the candles had flickered. Von Glower found himself holding his breath, his gaze falling on the Black Madonna's face and then back on the heart, and for a moment he was about to speak again, to call out in hope he would get a reply of any kind – but then his ears picked up the sound of people walking inside, on the upper floor, and of a chair being pulled back, and he knew that in less than a minute he would no longer be alone in there. He had to act quickly.

Von Glower put the urn back in place and reached inside the bag for the glass jar he knew was in it. He carefully put the heart in it, closed it and put it in the bag, then he pulled out something else from it – a small rock inside a cloth. He let it fall inside the urn before closing it and carefully placing it right on the same spot it had been sitting when he had walked in. The steps were close now: in a few instants he would no longer be alone.

He moved quickly, but silently. He walked up to the shrine once more, put the bag on the floor and knelt, re-assuming a praying position, with his hands folded and eyes shut; the priest and two more people walked inside only moments later. He heard the priest murmuring for them to leave their offers in the basket, and he took the occasion put an end to his little act – he had to step aside for the couple to reach the basket, after all. After one last, long look at the face of the Black Madonna, von Glower stood – almost forgetting to cross himself in the process – took the bag and turned to the priest.

"Thank you for letting me in," he said with a brief nod. "I feel much better alrea-" he trailed off as he recalled exactly what the man thought he had been there to pray for.

The priest's eyebrows went almost all the way up his hair before he coughed a little and seemed to recollect. "I'm glad you could find… help," he finally said with an awkward nod, and von Glower just nodded back before walking past him and leaving with quicker steps than it would have been necessary.

* * *

The house was a large, old residence that sat in the middle of a well-cured garden; Erich von Zell had been rather obsessive when it came to that garden, and he had scared away more than one gardener. Even now – a decade past his death – the gardener worked his ass off as though the old man would get back from the afterlife to bark orders and insults at him, as the classy man he was.

Elsa sure couldn't claim she was any classier than her grandfather had been, but hey, if anything she was unpleasant to everyone, not just to those she held authority over… not that she really _did_  have authority over anyone anyway, unless one counted the cleaning lady that would come to her apartment once a week. Living off her father's life insurance while she finished her studies wasn't bad at all, especially since it had given her the chance to leave her mother's house as soon as she was old enough, but she still couldn't afford any luxury aside from the cleaning lady.

Besides, a fucking garden wasn't worth the hassle to begin with in her books.

She turned her gaze away from the garden and stared at the front door. She knew what her grandmother would be doing already – she would be in her armchair looking at old photo albums with memories and reality blending into one, able to tell who the long-dead people in those old photos were but not to recognize her own living relatives – and now she found herself wondering, for the first time in quite a while, what her mother was doing.

Elsa scowled. Was that even a question to ask oneself? She was certainly pressing for the little pretense of investigation that was still going on to be brought a close so that her brother would be legally dead; afterwards she'd get her hands on the stock at the Munich bank that belonged to him, of course, being his closest relative with a still functional mind. Damn, her hands had to be _itching_  to do that. She probably was having some trouble pretending to be a grieving sister – would anyone who knew her believe it for a moment? – while she was having fun getting ready to organize a funeral for an empty casket.

Elsa found herself wondering if it was too much of a stretch thinking Brunhilde von Zell could pick Ode to Joy or something like to play at the funeral. Elsa had no idea what kind of music uncle Garr would have wanted for his funeral – actually, she couldn't picture him even caring about that kind of stuff anyway – but she definitely knew of what kind of song her mother should have playing during hers.

"Ding dong, the witch is dead," she muttered to no one in particular, trying to ignore the fact that talking to oneself is not exactly a good sign when it comes to mental health… but then again, she had more than a reason to doubt she had much of it left to begin with.

_This is no reason to just stand here talking to yourself. Ring that damn door._

Elsa hesitated. She really, really didn't want to be there, and for a moment she was tempted to just turn and walk away. But then it occurred to her that it would mean having to spend another night wide awake after a dreaming of a dead asshole nudging her to go find his corpse, and she decided that yes, she should probably go through with it. After all, she would be expected to pay her mother and grandmother a visit sooner or later: at least now she could get something useful done in the process.

Wherever he was, she thought as she finally reached to ring the bell, Garr von Zell had better appreciate the  _fuck_  out of that.

* * *

Considering what Gabriel had told her about that vodoo priestess he had spoken to back in New Orleans – Magentia something, wasn't it? – Grace wasn't sure what to expect when she rang the door of the folklore practitioner. Frau Amsel, the piece of paper in her hands read. Grace had already spoken to her by phone, finding out with some relief she was fluent enough in English, and she had been almost business-like: no odd quirks like that Magentia person Gabriel had told her about.

Grace kind of hoped it hadn't been a false impression: considering that she had spoken to a huge Black Wolf on a quest to retrieve a deceased monarch's heart, she felt she had dealt with her fair share of oddities for that day already. Besides, having to ask someone how to use blood and a heart for a ritual to save a werewolf's soul from damnation was odd enough already without the expert on the matter deciding to act up.

Actually, when the door opened the woman inside looked  _so_  normal – a little taller than she was with black hair and tan skin, wearing jeans and a t-shirt with some writing in German on it she couldn't understand – that for a moment Grace wondered if she had rang the wrong door. "I… good morning. Are you…?"

"Mirela Amsel," the woman replied in English, holding out her hand. "And you must be Grace Nakimura. We spoke by phone, did we not?"

Yes, Grace was relieved to realize, it was really her. Wonderful. "Yes, we did," she said, reaching to share her hand. "Thank you so much for your time."

"You're welcome," Amsel said, stepping aside and gesturing for her to come inside. Her apartment was rather small and, as far as she could tell, with much furniture around; Grace's impression to be dealing with a very practical person seemed to be correct. "I hope you don't mind the stench," Amsel was saying as she led her into what Grace supposed was the living room and gestured for her to sit on an armchair. "I tried to bake, and was immediately reminded it's not my field. Speaking of which, would you like something to drink or eat as we speak? I have some rather good salamander eyes jelly."

Grace shook her head. "No, thank you, I'm fi- what?" she asked, staring at her a little worriedly.

The other woman chuckled. "My apologies," she said, sitting on the other armchair, "it's a joke I can never resist making."

"You got me for a moment," Grace admitted, relaxing again. "Did anyone ever fall for it?"

"A few people do from time to time, yes. Some of them seem to be eager to believe I have something like that in the kitchen. They walk in and expect to find, say, crystal balls or black cats. Or Tarots," she added, and shrugged. "I suppose it is anticlimactic to them. I'm even allergic to cats."

Grace smiled. "If it helps, I was far from disappointed. I was actually rather-"

"Relieved," Amsel finished for her, and winked at her surprised expression. "No, still nothing close to odd powers. I'm simply good at recognizing a no-nonsense person when I see one. I suppose seeing one in a mirror every morning – the bathroom mirror, not some magic one, in case you were wondering – helps on that. So, I think it's high time we speak of the reason why you're here. I know Professor von Kiefer gave you my number for some research you're doing on the ritual to free the soul of a victim of the curse of the Ruvaush."

Grace nodded. "Yes, that's exactly it. You see, my… my employer needs some information. For a novel he's working on."

"A novel?" the other woman asked, raising an eyebrow. "How come he isn't here to collect information himself?"

"He's busy," Grace retorted, suddenly feeling defensive: she didn't really like how intently she was now staring at her.

Amsel smiled. "I see. And out of curiosity, what is the novel about?"

"I don't know the details," Grace said somewhat stiffly. "About werewolves, I should think. If you're curious, I could ask him-"

"Can I take a guess?" Amsel cut her off. "The source of inspiration for this novel are either the killings that happened a few months ago, or the incident at the Opera with the wolf… or perhaps your employer heard of an old legend the Romani side of my family told me about – that of the Black Wolf of Bavaria," she smiled pleasantly and tilted her head on one side. "Does any of it sound familiar in any way?"

Grace opened her mouth to speak, but no sound left her – she could only stare, her mind blank from the first time since… well, probably for the first time ever. "What… how…?"

Amsel dismissively waver her hand. "I know there are things in this world that go just a little beyond human understanding. Some dark and dangerous, some beautiful and equally dangerous," she said, and leaned forward. "I cannot say I have a full understanding of all those things, but I can put two and two together. When you do know that lycanthropes exist, that the son of Claus von Ralick is likely to still live in this world, that neither the killings or the incident at the Opera had anything to do with normal wolves, it isn't too difficult to think it may be related, somehow. And now you show up, only days after the incident at the Opera, to ask me about a very specific ritual few know about. I believe in many things, but do you know what I'm inclined to believe very little into? Coincidences."

Grace stared at her for a few more moments, speechless, then: "So you knew of the Black Wolf."

"Yes. As I said, the Romani side of my family had plenty of tales to tell. One of those tales was the curse cast on Claus von Ralick."

"But how did they know of the survival of Claus von Ralick's son?" Grace asked.

"When he returned, he became a powerful presence in the Prussian court. It was hard not knowing about him. He claimed his name was… oh, I can't remember. But I remember what name he used sometimes for himself – the Black Wolf," she said, chuckled. "The same as his father, even before the curse: the black wolf was even on the family crest. It wasn't really wise of him to use it, to be honest: that's what gave him away to those who knew about the curse cast von Ralick. He was rumoured to have been involved Ludwig II's madness. Still, last thing my ancestors knew of him before that was that he received lands, and a title. He certainly changed his name afterwards."

"I… see," Grace said weakly. "You seem to know everything."

The woman laughed. "Far from it. I only know what I was told, and I managed to guess werewolves were involved simply because I know such creatures exist, and that the killings weren't the making of normal wolves; which was, no matter what the police claimed, pretty clear to everyone with half a brain. I have no idea how things really went, or why the killings stopped. Nor I'm truly interested, to be honest, to know if the Black Wolf is actually involved or if it is some other lycanthrope."

For a moment, Grace smiled faintly. "So I won't have to tell you the whole story."

"No. I get the feeling it would be long and, to be honest, it's none of my business. I take it you're actually going to go through the ritual to free someone's soul, though."

"Yes. And we need to know how it's done. We only know it involves the deceased's heart, and… blood form a relative within the seventh generation."

Amsel nodded. "Yes, you got that much right. The ritual is fairly simple, to be honest, so there isn't much more to be said. You'll only need the heart, the blood from a relative – willingly given blood from a living relative, so don't you go slicing anyone's throat open for that, I hear it would be illegal – and a silver bowl."

"I see," Grace made a few quick notes on her notebook. "How much blood?"

"Not too much. Enough to fill the bowl, which doesn't need to be much bigger than the heart to begin with. Have you ever donated blood? That should be more than enough."

"Good to know no one needs to die for that," Grace muttered, and they both chuckled for a moment before she went on. "About the heart… does it need to be, you know… fresh? If it were, say, decayed, or embalmed… or, say, had a bullet wound in it…"

Amsel made a face. "I'm glad my attempt at baking failed. This made me lose any appetite and the biscuits would have gone to waste. But no, it doesn't make any difference. The heart is to be healed in any case – by the fresh blood. Its state won't make difference. You'll see."

Grace gave a sigh of relief. "Good to know," she said, taking a few more notes "so, the ritual consists in putting the blood and the heart in the silver bowl, right?"

"More or less. You'd have to do the ritual at night – a night of new moon, at three in the morning. That's very important. Not necessarily on the dot, don't worry. A few minutes later will be still be fine."

"Very well," Grace said with a nod "looks like we have some time to get things ready. And then…?"

"Put the heart in the bowl, and pour the blood on it. Afterwards… just sit back and watch," she shrugged "there really isn't much else to it. Hope you're not disappointed."

"At the contrary – you have no idea how glad I am to hear that. At least it's going to be easy, once we get the blood." She paused in thought. "When you say the blood must be willingly given – does the, uh, donor need to know what they're willingly giving their blood for?"

Amsel laughed. "Clever. No, they don't need to. What matters is that the blood isn't taken by force."

That was even better than Grace hoped. "Good," she said, closing her notebook, then, "I have another couple of questions."

"Concerning werewolves?"

"Yes. Does it matter whether or not the werewolf whose soul we're freeing tasted human blood or not? According to a book I found, while a werewolf who never tasted human blood stays imprisoned between the afterlife and the world of the living, one that did feed on humans would be going straight to Hell."

There was a moment of silence as Amsel scratched her chin. "Is it an old book you're referring to?"

"Yes. A couple centuries old, at least."

"Yes, that explains it. It's hard to find a…  _guide_  about such things that doesn't mention Hell once or twice."

"So, it isn't true?"

"Not necessarily. The soul would be trapped in-between, whether or not it shed blood. The only difference would come after the ritual is completed and the soul is freed."

"And what difference would it be?"

"The soul of one tainted by the curse but that never tasted human blood would move on to the afterlife. Things would be different, however, if they did taste human blood – like, I suppose, the one responsible of the recent killings."

"So… they wouldn't move on?"

"Not before getting another chance at life. You must know by now that, save from born werewolves or exceptional cases, a such a curse can destroy a man's mind. If the madness that comes from it is what truly caused the killings, then the man's responsibility becomes limited."

"But it isn't erased."

"Of course not; they still  _did_  consume human flesh. The ultimate fate of their soul would depend on how they overcome the trials they'll find in their new life."

Grace blinked. "So, they would be…?"

"Reborn, yes. With no curse and no recollection whatsoever of the past. Actually, for all we know, both of us could have been born more than once and have some horrible deeds to make up for. Who knows?"

Well, Grace couldn't said she liked that last thought – still, maybe some horrible deed in a previous life could be the reason why she was now stuck with Gabriel. Speaking of Gabriel… "I see. And… what of one who's been cursed, but still lives? Someone who was bitten by a werewolf and survived? What's their way out, aside from killing their alpha or making their death happen somehow?" she asked, her grip around the notebook tightening without her even noticing.

Her heart sank as Amsel shook her head. "I'm sorry, no. As far as I know, that would be the only way out."

_As far as…?_

"As far as you know?" Grace repeated, trying to cling to that glimmer of hope.

"Well, one thing I learned is that one never knows everything. There might also be some knowledge that escapes us, no matter how much we think we know. So I cannot say I'm completely certain there isn't any other chance. But," she added, "it is very much unlikely. And I'm afraid I can't help you on this."

Grace sighed. "I see. I'll find a way somehow," she said before standing up and holding our her hand. "Thank you very much for your time, and for the help."

Amsel stood up as well and took her hand. "It was my pleasure. I hope everything will turn out fine."

"I'm sure it will," Grace said, though it was more meant to convince herself than to reply to her. Yes, she forcefully told herself as she left, there had to be another way, and she was going to find it. Everything was going to be back to normal soon.

She didn't notice how the idea of talking Gabriel into killing von Glower hadn't even occurred to her.


	12. Von Zell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The information near the end of the chapter about von Glower's "family" wasn't something I came up with - it's written in the game's novelization by Jane Jensen.   
> Guess this might be the right moment to mention that some elements of the novelization are mixed with this, although this leans more heavily towards the game (for example, in the novelization Grace gave Gabriel von Glower's letter almost right away; in the game she does not, and this is the version I went with in the fic). Should have mentioned this earlier, come to think of it, but I entirely forgot to. Sorry!

 

The maid who opened the door didn't recognize her – nor Elsa recognized her, and she got the feeling she had been hired after the last time he had bothered to drop by several months earlier– and she looked a bit surprised when she said whose daughter she was. Then again, that was nothing new: Elsa truly looked nothing like her mother, nor like her late husband. But that was an issue she had forbidden herself to think about years before, after that one afternoon when a rather reluctant Wilhelm had showed her-

"Look who decided to show up," a dry voice snapped her from her thoughts.

Elsa drew in a long, deep breath before looking back at the woman standing before her. She was tall, with fair skin and blonde hair, and still beautiful; hadn't it been for the perpetual cold expression hardening her features, Brunhilde von Zell would have looked a lot younger than her age. "I have some questions to ask grandmother," she replied, trying to keep her voice even.

A low, cold laugh escaped her mother. "Questions? She can barely understand what's going on around her. I'll be surprised if she recognizes you. What answers are you hoping to get? You'd waste your time."

"Thanks for your concern. But since it's _my_ time we're talking about, I'll waste it the way I see fit."

That got a scowl out of her mother. "I see. And I can also see that you couldn't find enough time to waste on even asking how I'm holding everything together, considering the circumstances-"

"Spare me the act. You hated him," Elsa cut her off before walking past her. "Now, if she's not sleeping, I'd like to see grandmother."

Elsa heard her mother muttering some retort that was probably meant to be scathing, but whatever it was she didn't listen: she just walked through the door and headed to the living room where she knew her grandmother spent most of her says. She remembered that room very well: back when she was still a child - and Erich von Zell was still alive, with his mind intact - they'd spend every Sunday afternoon there. The adults would discuss business, of course, which bored her out of her mind, but she was still supposed to listen, or so she was told. As long as she behaved, and sat still, and didn't speak unless spoken to.

She remembered wondering why Garr – he was only five years older than herself, still a kid when she was young enough to suck her thumb from time to time – seemed to never get bored of such discussions: he'd sit right next to his father and listen, a serious expression on his face, and sometimes even little Elsa had to wonder how could no one else notice the stiffness in her mother's back any time she looked at that brother who could have almost been her son.

She had asked him once, and he had given a smirk that looked somewhat wrong on a twelve year old. He had told her that he wasn't really listening to a word, but that he was expected to, so he put on an interested face and thought about other things while the old man spoke. And, when she had asked him why her mother didn't like him, he had looked away and say she just couldn't get used to the second place.

A rather accurate description of her mother, Elsa was thinking now, but she immediately pushed all thoughts on the matter aside as she saw her grandmother sitting on her usual armchair, the one that had been her late husband's favorite one, looking at old photo albums.

"Grandmother," she greeted her, and the old woman turned to look at her. She looked at her with a vacant expression for a few moments, then her eyes moved as though she was looking somewhere above her left shoulder, and she immediately brightened and smiled.

"Oh, here you are! Come here, come here!" she said, gesturing for her to come closer and take a look at the photo album currently open on her knees. "I was looking at some pictures. Look, isn't he handsome?"

Elsa looked down to see black and white a picture of a young Erich von Zell – quite an handsome man, she had to admit, but the Wehrmacht uniform he was wearing took away most of the charm. "… I see. Hot stuff, yes," she muttered before quickly deciding to try making that as quick as she could. "I was wondering if you still have a copy of uncle Garr's keys. You know, those of his house? He left you a copy, right?" she tried.

"Oh, and you have to see this one," her grandmother said, still smiling brightly, and picked up another photo album. Before Elsa could say anything she was opening it and flipping through the pages. "Isn't it adorable?"

Elsa raised an eyebrow at the morbid picture she was staring up. Both her grandparents were in it, looking especially grim; her mother – she had been, what, eighteen in that picture? – stood next to her grandmother and looked everything like she had just eaten a lemon. The reason of her displeasure sat right in her grandmother's arms, of course – Garr von Zell, age… well, from nine months to maybe a year, perhaps?

"Yes, adorable," she agreed, not really feeling like arguing. "About the keys…"

"Keys, dear?" the old woman repeated, finally turning her gaze from the albums to look… no, not at her: once again, she was looking at that spot above her left shoulder. Elsa was for a moment reminded of her dream, with Garr von Zell standing right behind her, but quickly chased away the thought and spoke quickly: if she had really been lucky enough to catch her in a rare parenthesis of relative lucidity, she wasn't going to waste that chance.

"Yes, the keys. I need the keys to uncle Garr's house. He, uh… asked me to… bring him some stuff over, and he's out of town," she added, fully knowing that the old woman hadn't yet grasped, and probably never would grasp, the fact her son was missing and, by now, considered dead.

To her utter relief and surprise, she nodded. "But of course, dear. They're in the secret drawer of Erich's old desk, like all the other keys. The one you always played with, remember? They're labelled."

Else couldn't remember ever knowing of a secret drawer in her grandfather's desk or playing with it – in fact, she never got within a ten foot radius from that desk – but that wasn't important: what mattered now was knowing where she should look.

"That's great, thanks. I'll be right back. Get back looking at your-" she trailed off as she noticed she already was back at looking at the photos, a small smile on her wrinkled face "… Yes, exactly like that," she added before turning on her heels and quickly walking upstairs, where she knew her grandfather's study was.

Finding the secret drawer was easier than she expected, especially because she knew, the very same moment she saw the desk, what to do. As if on its own accord, her hand went beneath the desk and pressed a small convex area in the wood – and, a moment later, a clicking sound came from the left side of the desk. "Well, maybe I _did_ play with this thing as a kid," she muttered to no one in particular before opening the drawer.

Finding the keys didn't take long – they were labelled, just as her grandmother had said – and minutes later she was walking out of the study with the keys in her pocket. She hesitated for a moment before walking through the living room, but she thankfully didn't seem to even notice her presence as she passed by.

Her mother, on the other hand, noticed her all too well when she tried to get out without having to meet her.

"Leaving already?"

Oh well, her sudden luck was bound to run out at some point. "Yes," she said, barely glancing at her mother over her shoulder. "I take it you won't invite me to the party when you get him declared officially dead. What music will you pick for the funeral, by the way? Ode to Joy?"

Her mother's gaze darkened. "Even you side up with him, like everyone, always. Even now that he's dead."

Elsa clenched her jaw. If it was her compassion she wanted, she could as well keep waiting until she got old. She had downright ignored her existence for too many years, and it was too late to make up for that. But of course, it wasn't like Brunhilde was ever going to really try: Elsa was nothing but one of her failed plans, after all. She existed for the same reason why her mother had married when she was just twenty to some much older businessman her family wanted ties to – she had wanted to prove herself useful to her parents, granting them the ties with the person they wanted and giving them a grandchild.

She had thought that would gain her father's respect, perhaps some attention: she was always obsessed with doing something better than uncle Garr. But nothing she did to achieve that had ever worked, of course, not even wasting her own youth. The old man only had eyes for Garr, and as soon as it had been clear a granddaughter wouldn't change that Elsa had lost any value in her mother's eyes. She was one of her failures – the most troublesome one, one she couldn't get rid of, there to remind her was still worth _nothing_.

Elsa never failed to feel a vicious satisfaction at that thought.

"As you said, he's dead. And seems like there aren't many people left willing to side with him," she said dryly, reaching to open the door to leave. "Don't bother letting me know how you're doing," she added before walking through the door and shutting it behind herself with more force than it would have been necessary.

* * *

A long silence fell after the sound of the door slamming shut faded. Brunhilde stared at the door for a long time, saying nothing, a bitter scowl on her face. She wasn't sorry for hatred in her daughter's voice any time she spoke to her – she quite disliked her herself – but it still got under her skin how even now, even to her, everything was still about Garr. Even her own daughter had always preferred her brother to her.

_Garr_.

Her features twisted in anger even more as she thought of her brother. Oh, Elsa was correct when she had said she hated him: even now that her brother was gone she still did hate him more than anyone else in the world, and she despised quite a lot of people. But in the end she knew that it wasn't only because of him and his insufferable arrogance, no – she hated him because of how everyone had always put him in the first place, how for just being born he effortlessly got all the consideration and support her own hard work had never gained her.

She had been seventeen when Garr was born, and she couldn't forget how everyone had saluted his birth as if it were some kind of miracle. Not only he was the son Erich von Zell had been wanting for all his life, but he was also unexpected: Garr had been a late child, for their mother was pushing forty when she had him and nobody expected her to have any other child after the troublesome pregnancy that had led to Brunhilde's birth when she was only twenty. But she did, and from that moment on Brunhilde had always been in her brother's shadow. It was always him, always Garr – he was the one everyone's attention would focus on: Garr, the perfect son, the eternal first of the class, doing better than she had done before him in any field.

And that smirk, God, that smirk. Even as a child he wouldn't smile – he _smirked_. A smirk meant to taunt her, she was sure. It was the smirk the one on top would reserve to those below, those who could never reach their same level, no matter how hard they tried. He challenged her, she was sure of it – young as he was, he knew what her place was and challenged her to change it while knowing there was nothing she could do about that, that not even marrying a much older man her father approved of and having a daughter she never truly wanted when she was only twenty-two could change it. How many times had she wished to erase that infuriating, arrogant expression from his face!

"But I'm sure you're not smirking anymore now, are you?" she said to no one in particular, a cold smile spreading on her face as she walked back to the living room.

_Did the zoo wolves get you? I'm sure they did. I wish I could know what your last moments were like, Garr. I wish I could have been there to see your face then._

Her father was gone and couldn't be crushed by his precious son's death anymore and her mother's mind was too far gone to understand Garr was no more, but it didn't matter: with her brother out of the way, she could at least have his stocks at the bank as soon as he was declared dead and his will could be read. She was sure he had chosen to leave it all to the family in case anything happened to him, and the only close relative he had who was still sound of mind was Brunhilde herself. It had taken years, but she would finally have the stocks that should have been given to her from the beginning.

"I'm only sorry you won't be able to see how much better than him I can be," Brunhilde muttered, looking at her mother, who on the other hand didn't even look up her album. Over the last couple of years things had gotten worse, and she barely even noticed her presence when she tried to talk to her – oh, but how she'd lighten up if Garr just walked in! One would think she had just seen Jesus Christ himself. The memory made her scowl again. "You might have not noticed, but I always did my best to please you," she gave a bitter smile as she spoke even though her mother didn't seem to even hear her anymore. "My best was just never good enough, was it?"

Much to her surprise, this time her mother lifted her gaze from the album and looked at her with a vacant smile on her face – the most noticeable reaction she had been able to get out of her in weeks – and, after a few moments, spoke.

"Wasn't it nice of Garr and Elsa paying us a visit?"

* * *

"Wouldn't it have been easier turning into a wolf before doing that?" Mosely asked as he saw von Glower climbing up the last tract of the hillside that led up to the secret passage carrying a bag. Gerde had mentioned someone should stay there in case von Glower came back, and he had been glad to offer himself to do that: now that he felt better, some fresh air would do him good.

Besides, it was a quick way out in case some psychotic villager decided to attack the castle or something.

Von Glower chuckled breathlessly. "You sound incredibly at ease when it comes to the supernatural."

Mosely shrugged. "Yeah, well, you get used to weird stuff happening when you stick around Knight for a lot of time. So, why didn't you…?"

"I didn't want to leave the heart unattended. Carrying it as a wolf would have proved challenging at best, and the route through Rittersberg is not an option," von Glower replied, gratefully accepting the hand Mosely was holding out to him to hoist himself up to the entrance. "I see you're doing better."

"Uh… yeah," Mosely cleared his throat a bit. "Sorry for the hassle. I think I ate too much yesterday, and then I drank too much, and then there's this damn jet lag that's still-"

"It is quite alright," von Glower reassured him, wondering whether he had the slightest idea what he had exactly avoided by feeling sick. "What matters is that we have the heart. Also, here's the car keys," he added, pulling them out of his pocket. "I put some petrol in it, by the way. On my way back I stopped at my residence to gather some of my clothes and a few belongings, plus some cash. It's all in the car. I hope you don't mind."

Mosely shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. Better you than Knight, anyway," he added as they walked back inside. "That ass sure wouldn't have bothered to fill the tank again. He even stole my credit card to pay himself a trip from New Orleans to Germany, from Germany to hell-knows-where in Africa, and from hell-knows-where in Africa back to New Orleans. My bank account was in red, damn him."

Von Glower felt a pang of amusement. "I think I read about that in his novel," he said. "He thought you were dead, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but _still_. What asshole takes a dead man's wallet?" Mosely grumbled before letting out a sigh. "Well, guess I'll go down the route from Rittersberg to get the car up here. The guys in town won't want to skin _me_ alive. I hope. Guess it depends on how Knight's meeting with them went."

Von Glower frowned a little. He had almost forgotten about that. He wonder how had things gone, and whether or not Gabriel would manage to finally convince the people of Rittersberg he was no danger for them. That was the most he could do, after all – von Glower doubted anything could convince them he was not a monster. Especially not when Gabriel himself was now doubting that.

And he… he couldn't truly deny that, either. Not anymore.

"Hey, Grace!"

Von Glower was snapped from his thoughts by Mosely's voice. He looked up to see that Grace was talking to Gerde about something near the entrance. Neither looked especially happy, but they didn't seem too gloomy, either. Perhaps her encounter with the practitioner hadn't brought to stellar news, but it looked like there had been at least something positive about it.

Grace turned to them, and her gaze immediately fell on von Glower, and on the bag he was carrying. "So, did you get it?" she asked somewhat excitedly, walking up to him.

Mosely made a face. "Hey, thanks for the attention. How are you, Mose?" he said, mimicking her voice.

"Go get the car, Mosely," Grace said instead before turning her attention back to von Glower. Behind her, Gerde was giving poor Mosely an empathetic smile. "So, did you…?"

"Yes," von Glower reached inside the bag and handed her the jar. "Here it is."

There was still some worry in her gaze – von Glower wondered if she had just been told what he already knew, that there was no way for Gabriel to rid himself of the curse without killing him – but she smiled as she took the jar.

"Wonderful," she said, looking down at the jar. "We're almost there. We're close."

Von Glower smiled a little himself. "I take it the ritual is something we can handle."

"Oh, yes," she said with a nod. "It's nothing complicated. If we can obtain the blood of a living relative, it will be a piece of cake – and… well, getting someone's blood won't even be the oddest thing I've had to do," she laughed, then, "We have some time, though. Until the new moon. We can get von Zell's heart meanwhile… and we already know a relative of his that could help out once we explain her how things went. If she doesn't think we're crazy and call the police, I mean."

"I can Change at will," von Glower said quietly. "I could do that in front of her if the situation calls for it. To prove we're not insane."

Grace nodded. "Yes, sounds like a good idea. Maybe it would help me, too. Some days I think of the situation and question my own sanity. This should have been over already, but-" she trailed off as she realized what she was saying really meant – _you should have died in the theatre_.

Von Glower immediately sense her uneasiness. "Yes, it should have," he said quietly. "I know that now."

"I… no, that's not what I meant. Look-"

"Miss Nakimura, it is quite alri-"

"Grace."

Von Glower trailed off and gave her a quizzical glance. "Excuse me?"

"Enough with the 'Miss Nakimura' crap, I guess it's been going on for enough time," she said, glancing down at the jar containing Ludwig's heart before smiling a little. "If walking in a holy shrine with a silver penis doesn't show you want to make up for it all, nothing does."

He stared at her for a few more moments before he smiled. "Friedrich," he simply said, and to Grace it felt like they had shaken hands or something close. She gave him a brief nod.

"Is it…?"

"Not my birth name, no. But I grew quite fond on it. It will do."

"Fine," she said somewhat awkwardly, then she changed subject. "As I said, we have a some time until the night of new moon – a couple of weeks or so. I was told that the heart's condition doesn't matter in the ritual, but I think it wouldn't hurt getting von Zell's heart before it… rots… too much," she finished, not really liking the thought. From what she had gathered, the body had been hidden somewhere in the forest for well past two months now – it couldn't be a nice thing to see or smell, let alone to cut open.

Von Glower nodded. "Yes, I agree. I will take care of it myself – I have no intention to burden you with such an unpleasant task."

Grace nodded, not about to argue with him over that. "Fine. Where is the body anyway?"

"In the forest. The cave Gabriel found was not the only one. There is another smaller one, several miles away from the lodge – a small one whose entrance is hidden. I brought the body there. I wrapped it in plastic and left it inside, then I blocked the entrance with rocks and dirt."

"I see," Grace said. She assumed that the plastic was meant to keep the smell of rotting flesh inside the cave so that it wouldn't attract the dog used for the search. Still… would that really be enough to keep away trained search dogs? It clearly had been, for the body hadn't been found, but…

"In case you were wondering," von Glower added, "I do believe one of the reasons why the dogs failed to find the body was that I wrapped it in plastic near the lodge, so they had no trace left to follow. Even if they were to find themselves close to the body's hiding place… I don't think they'd approach," he said, and gave an odd smile. "Dogs are aware of what can be a danger for them, and avoid it. I'm sure that if they got close enough to smell the body through plastic, they also were close enough to smell something else – werewolves."

The thought made Grace shiver just a little; there were moments when she almost forgot she was talking to someone who could leave his human hide for a beastly one any moment. How _could_ she forget that after seeing the Black Wolf with her own eyes, and so up close? "Speaking of that," she finally said, "in a few days there will the full moon. I take it you and Gabriel will…?"

Von Glower nodded. "Yes. Neither him nor I can resist the pull of the full moon. There are about two days left, correct?"

"Yes. There will be a full moon on Saturday night, and I'm worried the people in Rittersberg could-"

"Well, what they'll do kind of depends on whether or not a certain someone will behave."

Grace trailed off, and both her and von Glower turned to see Gabriel staring at them with a smirk, head tilted to one side. "Didn't hear me coming, eh? Must have been one interesting conversation. And hey, you're both still in one piece. Great. I met Mose on my way back, by the way. Good to know we have one heart, at least."

Von Glower smiled a bit and opened his mouth to say that yes, he had been quite silent, but he closed it again without saying anything as he realized Gabriel was most likely stiff furious – how could he not be? – and would likely not welcome any praise from him. It was Grace to speak instead.

"What do you mean? How did the meeting go?"

"You first, Gracie. Is the ritual something we can get done without human sacrifices and stuff like that?"

She nodded. "Yes. It doesn't sound too difficult to get done," she said, and proceeded to tell both him and von Glower what she had learned from Amsel about the ritual – but keeping for herself what she had told her about the fact there was no possibility, as far as she knew, for Gabriel to be able to get rid of the curse without killing von Glower. Gabriel had already made it clear he wouldn't do it, and Grace herself wasn't fond on the idea; saying that wouldn't serve any purpose, especially not now that they had other priorities.

"So," von Glower said quietly when she finished speaking, looking incredibly relieved, "does means there is a chance for Garr, too?"

"Yes. From what I gathered, Ludwig will get to pass on to the afterlife after the ritual is complete: he never shed or tasted human blood, so nothing will be holding him back after it. As for von Zell, Amsel pretty much said he'll have to go through life again and that his fate will be decided by his actions in overcoming the… trials, or something like that, he may find," she said, and frowned a little. "I wonder if that just means he'll have to simply, you know… not murder anyone, or if there's something more to these 'trials' she spoke of."

"I honestly have no answer to that, but I suppose a second chance is all he will need," he said, and smiled a little wistfully. "He wasn't a bad person when we met. He truly was not. He could be… difficult, yes, and perhaps too arrogant for his own good. But he was no murderer."

"Unlike a certain someone," Gabriel muttered under his breath. His voice was too low for Grace to hear it, but it didn't escape von Glower's sensitive hearing. He stiffened, and Gabriel inwardly cursed himself as he realized he had heard him. Damn, he thought, he kept forgetting how damn good his hearing was. Not that he wasn't still furious over what von Glower had done – he _was_ – but reminding him over and over when it was already so clear he was regretting it was just… kind of an asshole move. He didn't _have_ to do that.

He finally cleared his throat and decided to change subject. "Anyway… yeah, guess the hard part here will be getting the blood we need. I mean, we could get von Zell's charming niece into giving some of hers if we tell her what the fuck happened, but hell if I know how we can get some relative distant relative of Ludwig to willingly give theirs."

Grace sighed. "Maybe the fact this doesn't even sound like the hardest thing we had to do should worry me."

"Perhaps," von Glower said slowly, "if we find one who happens to also be a blood donor, we could try to… _acquire_ their blood. It would still be, as you said, willingly given and not taken by force from its source."

Gabriel blinked. "Hey, that sounds like a good idea," he admitted. "Guess I'll ask Harry to look up for Ludwig's descendants and their relatives, too. Meanwhile we could, uh… go get von Zell's heart? We're still a couple of weeks away from the next new moon, and maybe we should… freeze it meanwhile? Before it rots too much?" he asked, though realizing it had to be pretty much rotten by now anyway, and with a bullet in it to boot. Good thing the ritual didn't need the heart to be fresh, he thought, and once again chased away the horrible memory of Wolfgang's heart still weakly beating on the stone altar in Africa.

Von Glower nodded. "Yes, I think that the sooner we take it, the better it is."

"Great. We're going tomorrow. It's going to rain for a few days after that and hey, no reason to make a disgusting job even worse by having to do it under a downpour or something. Is the body still in the forest?"

"Yes. But you do not need to concern yourselves – I could go by myself, and-"

"No," Gabriel cut him off. "You're not going anywhere alone for a while. I kinda promised that. And yeah, I know you were at the shrine earlier, but it was before I promised, so it doesn't count, right?" he gave a sheepish grin. "I told them I'd keep you in sight until the full moon."

"Until full moon?" Grace repeated, frowning. "How _did_ the meeting go? What did they said about… well, about letting him…?" she paused, feeling a little uncomfortable. She could see that, from near the door, Gerde was listening in silence.

Gabriel shrugged. "Well, old Werner Huber kept saying stuff about burning him at the stake, but in the end I managed to calm most of them down," he turned to von Glower. "Guess the fact the Talisman doesn't hurt you helped. That, and the fact you… damn, I can't _believe_ you pretty much let them hold a gun to your head. What were you thinking?"

A weak smile curled von Glower's lips, although his stomach clenched at the memory of the sobs wracking Sepp Huber's chest as he held a gun to the head of one of those responsible for his young daughter's gruesome death and was still unable to pull the trigger. "I supposed I wasn't precisely thinking straight."

Gabriel sighed. "Whatever. Just… stop trying to get yourself killed, okay? I mean, really – I didn't know keeping your alive would become my day job. Hell, I'm pretty sure I'm doing the _contrary_ of what the Schattenjäger job description says. Don't make it more of a pain in the ass than it already is."

Grace gave a sound that sounded _almost_ like a chuckle before speaking. "So. What is it you agreed onto?"

"Er… yeah. Basically, they said they want proof he's not dangerous."

She frowned. "What, that's it? Come on! He's staying willingly while he could have escaped a million times and a half, walked out in front of all of them and just stood there at gunpoint while he could have turned into a werewolf and try to make his way out of them or take hell knows how many of them down with him – what other proof do they _want_?" Grace asked in exasperation, completely missing the surprised and somewhat grateful look von Glower was giving her.

Gabriel looked surprised as well, but he clearly decided not to address to the matter. "They're stubborn guys. They know he's controlled and not dangerous in his _human_ form by now, but they want to be sure he won't go on a killing rampage once in his beastly one," Gabriel explained, giving a meaningful glance to von Glower. "That's the catch. You don't get to be out of my sight until full moon, when you – and me, I guess – Change again. They want to see you as a wolf, under the influence of the full moon. As far as they're concerned, your life depends on how you'll behave then," he added, and he was sure von Glower could fully understand that they weren't the only ones who thought that: he had clearly told him he would kill him if he were to attack humans ever again after all.

Von Glower nodded. "I won't give anyone any reason to think I'm dangerous," he said quietly.

"Will _you_ be able to control yourself?" Grace asked, looking at Gabriel a little worriedly.

Gabriel reached to scratch the back of his head. "Well, I guess I will. I mean, I managed in the theater. Can't see why I shouldn't this time," he added, and grinned a little. "As long as no one waves one of Huber's sausages in front of my nose, I'll behave."

"Please, never say _anything_ about sausages in front of me ever again," Mosely's groan reached their ears. They turned to see he had returned from his quest to retrieve the car.

"Hey, Mose," Gabriel greeted him with a grin. "Feeling better? Had some bonding time with the toilet?"

"Fuck you, Knight," Mosely growled. "You know I went to take back the car. I got enough glares on my way back to drill a hole in my skull, by the way, so you'd better tell me you settled things. Last thing I want is having to face those guys with guns again."

"Yeah, I did. Did you doubt that?" Gabriel reached to run a hand through his hair. "I always had more charm than you do, Mose. What I want I get, in case you forgot."

Mosely rolled his eyes. "You ass," he muttered before glancing at Grace and von Glower, clearly knowing that he had to ask them for a serious answer. "So, anyone care to sum up the situation for me?"

* * *

Well, Elsa thought as she sat at her desk and looked down at the map, at least _that_ had been easy: finding the map she had seen in her dream hadn't been difficult at all, especially since it was in the same exact drawer where she had seen Garr von Zell putting it into in her dream. If she had already known there was something going on that went beyond her comprehension, now that certainty was airtight.

"I'll need a vacation after this," she muttered to the empty room, lighting herself a cigarette and taking a long drag. She exhaled slowly and finally focused on the map once more, her right hand's index finger reaching to tap on the same exact spot where her uncle had tapped in her dream – a point where two rivers joined. She squinted a little to make out the tiny writing above each river.

"The Black Regen and the White Regen," she read. "Is that really where you are? Right where they join?"

No answer, but of course she hadn't been expecting one to begin with. Or had she? With all that was happening, she didn't think it would have surprised her. Oh well, she supposed there was only one way for her to find out: she would leave for a little trip the next morning. She had heard the area was lovely that time of the year after all.

_If his body is really there, it can't be a pretty sight after all this time. Far from 'lovely'._

The sudden thought made her bit her lower lip and for a moment she was tempted to call the police and request a search in the area rather than going herself – but what could he tell them? 'Search the area because I had this dream'? Sure, they were so going to listen and wouldn't think her to be insane at all.

Granted, Elsa _was_ starting to have doubts on her own sanity, but that was no good reason to advertise it.

No, she'd go herself. And if she found the body… then she'd call the police. She wasn't sure what excuse she'd come up with since she doubted they'd believe she had just casually found her uncle's corpse while strolling in the woods, but she'd think of _something_. Besides, if she really found it they sure would have other questions to concern themselves about… such as 'who murdered him' and 'why'. Because she was _sure_ he had been murdered – he had told her so himself, hadn't he?

"But who did?" Elsa heard herself asking before looking down at something else she had found in the same drawer as the map, something she had stared at for several moments before deciding to take them with her – photographs. A bunch of photographs that could be perhaps a couple of years old at most, all of them showing Garr von Zell with a tall man with shoulder-length, curly black hair. They were both dressed in hunting clothes, and in several of them they were posing with their fallen preys. She was pretty sure the other man had to be Baron von Glower: the men at the hunting club had said they were… _close_ , after all, at least before they had apparently had a fallout, and that they went hunting together often.

Still, the pictures themselves weren't what had really caught her attention: the truly interesting thing about them was that they were… damaged. Most of them showed signs of having been torn apart, often in more than two pieces, and then they had been put together again with tape. And with care, too: some of the pictures had been fixed so carefully, so _perfectly_ that it would have been hard telling they had been torn apart at all hadn't it been for the tape on the back. She could just picture her uncle sitting at his desk and painstakingly putting them back together, and for some reason the thought both angered and saddened her.

Elsa shook his head to get rid of the sensation and traced von Glower's features in one picture with a finger. What had caused him and Garr von Zell to fall apart like that? Had von Glower's growing interest in Gabriel Knight been the cause? No, it couldn't be – Preiss had said things hadn't been working between them for a while before Knight came in the picture. Or maybe it had been the last straw? Maybe it had been. Maybe it had been enough for Garr von Zell to lose it, to get angered, and then… then… then _what_?

Elsa closed his eyes and tried to think back of what she knew of the night when her uncle had disappeared. He had been out in the woods for a nocturnal hunt with von Glower and Gabriel Knight of all people. Only the three of them, armed, in the woods. The thought Knight could have killed him, maybe out of jealousy, had crossed her mind more than once – how could it not? – but it made so little sense. He was the one in favor, and his position didn't seem to be threatened: there was no reason why he should take it as far as killing von Glower's previous… _friend_. On the other hand… what if Garr von Zell truly _had_ lost it?

Perhaps Gabriel Knight had not been the one with murderous intention that night in the woods, she thought. Perhaps von Zell had meant to be the hunter, but was cornered by his own prey. Maybe Knight, or von Glower, shot him to defend themselves and then hid the body – wouldn't that make sense?

It did. As much as she disliked the idea, it really did make sense. Maybe-

The sudden ringing of the phone made her wince, snapping her from her thoughts. She shook her head as though to clear her mind and reached for the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, Elsa. It's Wilhelm. I have some information on von Glower," Wilhelm's voice came from the other side of the line. He sounded somewhat… hesitant, as though wondering if calling her had been a good idea. That immediately got her fullest attention in a way not even his words could.

"Great. I'm listening."

"Well…" that hesitant tone again. "He was not born in Germany. I could trace his family line up to 1871 – when his grandfather was given lands and a title from Bismarck himself. It was one Rudolf von Glower. He left Germany in 1890, though, to go abroad. There is no other trace of him."

"What, is that all?"

"About him, yes. It is all. But later, in… just a moment…" There was a sound of shuffling papers. "Here. So, in 1927 his son arrived from abroad. Endro von Glower. He claimed back the title and lands, and stayed in Germany for some more time. Then he left as well, in 1942. No more trace of him, either. He seems to have fallen off the face of Earth like his father before him. And then, in 1970-"

"Baron Friedrich von Glower comes back in Germany to reclaim his father's legacy," Elsa cut him off before taking another drag from her cigarette and exhaling, her brow furrowed in thought – if that was the case, she was seeing a pattern there. "Is that right?"

"Yes," Wilhelm confirmed. "And he still lives in Germany, as you know. And he's rather wealthy, too."

"A look at his residence was enough to tell me that, really," she said with a dry laugh before frowning again. "So let's see if I got this straight – the pattern here is that the father goes abroad, leaving no trace, and the son comes back out of nowhere to reclaim his legacy."

"Yes," Wilhelm said. "But it happened twice, and that's hardly a pattern. Some people just don't like settling."

Elsa supposed it was a reasonable answer, but for some reason it didn't quite sit well with her. "Tell me one thing – were you able to find any certificates?"

"W-what?" he immediately began stuttering, and Elsa smirked.

_Bull's-eye._

"I asked if you found any certificates," she repeated slowly. "Death certificates, for example. You said Rudolf and Endro von Glower seem to have fallen off the face of Earth, but they've got to have died somehow. So, could you find trace of either's death certificate?"

"I… no. But since I don't really know _where_ they went-"

"And what about Friedrich von Glower?" she pressed on. All that was very suspicious, and kind of ominous.

A pause. "L-listen, there can't be any death certificate for _that_ von Glower. He's alive."

Else smiled. Nice try, Wilhelm, she thought. "I wasn't referring to his death certificate. I know he's alive, thank you so much. What I'm asking is if you have any idea where he comes from, where he was born… and if you found any trace of his _birth_ certificate."

Another silence, longer than the previous one.

"I take it you didn't," Elsa said quietly. She had no idea what that all meant, or how it was related in any way to that whole mess with her uncle, but… but it was odd, _very_ odd. And she felt it was important, somehow.

"I… no," Wilhelm said, sounding all the world like he was being forced to say something he really didn't want to say. "But I don't know where he was born. Once I find out, I'm sure I'll also find-"

"Don't bother," Elsa heard herself saying. "It isn't important."

"I… alright," he sighed. "Look, I… don't really like all this. Call it intuition-"

"Wilhelm."

"What?"

"I hate to burst your bubble, but you're not an intuitive person by any stretch of imagination."

A groan escaped him. She could just _see_ him running a hand through his hair in frustration, and almost chuckled. " _Fine_. Call it any way you want, but I don't like this. So…don't get yourself in trouble, alright?"

She wasn't planning on letting him know she was about to go hiking through a forest looking for her uncle's corpse before, let alone _now_. She was however surprised to realize his worry made her smile rather than annoying her. "Don't worry, I won't. In fact, I'll take a day off tomorrow. I think I'll have a long walk in the nature," she added, looking down at the map.

The best part was that it wasn't even a lie.


	13. Grave in the Woods

"Can you imagine what would happen if police stopped us for some routine check, Knight?" Mosely grumbled as he drove away from Rittersberg. "Are we going to say we put a guy in the trunk just for the heck of it?"

"Mose, relax," Gabriel said, leaning back on the backseat – Mosely had refused to let him drive and Grace had already claimed the front seat. "Police probably hasn't been here in years. Besides, we're letting him out as soon as we get out of sight. It was the guys in town that shouldn't see him."

"Didn't they say they'd drop it at least until the full moon?" Grace asked.

A shrug. "Well, yeah, as long as I'm close to him. But better safe than sorry, right? Don't think the agreement includes taking him out for walks in the woods," Gabriel said, and turned to glance back. "Okay, I think we're far enough. Stop here, Mose, I'm lettin' the wolf out."

Mosely pulled the car to a stop, and Gabriel stepped out. He walked around the car – man, what a piece of junk Mose had gotten himself – and went to open the trunk. It was rather small and sure not a five stars worth accommodation, and the ride had been bumpy from Ritter Schloss, but von Glower didn't complain, nor Gabriel had expected him to.

"Bumpy ride, wasn't it?" Gabriel commented as he watched him climbing out and stretching just a little. "When I get filthy rich for real I'll get this damn road fixed. Or something."

Von Glower chuckled. "I am fine, Gabriel. I have travelled in worse predicaments, believe me," he said, and for just a moment he had a faraway look in his eyes. Gabriel was reminded of how much he had travelled in times when doing so was nowhere as safe and comfortable as it was now… and his escape from his own home when he had been a child probably hadn't been comfortable all the time, either.

He cleared his throat. "Yeah, guess so. So, are we heading for your place, or…?"

"Yes," von Glower said with a nod as they got back inside the car. "No disrespect meant, but I think my car is better suited for driving through the forest – at least up until the point we can drive. We'll have to go on foot from then, but it won't be too long before we arrive."

They all nodded, and a moment of uncomfortable silence followed. No wonder, though: they weren't heading in the forest for a picnic or something. They were going there to cut the heart out of a rotting corpse. "You know, Grace, you don't have to come along. I mean-" Gabriel began, but Grace cut him off with a small snort.

"I'm no fair maiden to protect, Gabriel," she said. "I've dealt with my share of crap already. I won't faint."

"Okay, okay. Try not biting my head off," Gabriel said, leaning back again with his hands raised in fake surrender. He turned to glance at von Glower, a small smirk on his lips, but the other man wasn't looking at him: he was looking out of the window, his gaze unfocused.

It looked like he had a lot going on through his mind, Gabriel though, then he scowled a little – of course he did. He had _better_ think things through, he mused, trying to feel just as furious as he had before and finding himself unable to. What he had done was horrible, but he seemed to be at least regretting it. It wasn't much, but… it was at least something. And Gabriel had more and more trouble trying not to feel for him, at least a little.

There was a long silence in the car – one that lasted until they were not far from Munich. "I must thank you," von Glower finally spoke, startling all of them out of their thoughts. "All of you. I'm more grateful than you can imagine for what you're doing for Ludwig, and for what you're willing to do so that I can let von Zell rest in peace as well. If I can put a remedy to at least two of my mistakes, I owe it to you."

Surprisingly enough, at least to Gabriel, Mosely was the first one to answer. "Hey, being stuck between life and death or whatever it is must suck, so no problem," he said with a shrug. "This ain't even the oddest stuff we had to do. Close enough, but not the oddest. Right?"

"Uh… yeah. Kind of," Gabriel muttered, and Grace nodded in silence. No more words were spoken until they reached Munich, and then it was only von Glower to speak, giving Mosely the directions he needed to reach his residence.

Gabriel had already seen von Glower's residence – been there a whole evening and night, really, but that wasn't a detail he had mentioned in front of Grace or… well, anyone – but Grace and Mosely hadn't, and Gabriel found Mosely's expression at the luxury pretty priceless, at lest until he opened his mouth to speak.

"Well, damn," he said with a whistle. "This place gives even that Gedde residence a run for its-" Mosely trailed off as Grace lightly elbowed him, and after a moment's confusion his expression turned rather uneasy as he noticed how Gabriel had clenched his jaw "… Oh. Oh, shit. Sorry, Knight," he muttered.

"I…" Gabriel coughed, then shrugged and grinned. "I'm okay, Mose. Got you worried, huh?" he added. He knew that his grin wasn't really going to fool anybody – not Mosely because he knew him so damn well and not Grace because you just cannot play Grace Motherfucking Nakimura for fool – but he hoped that would lighten up the atmosphere a little, and that at least von Glower would not realize that he had actually felt a twinge of pain in his chest at the mention of Malia's family.

Then again, that was an useless worry from his part – von Glower was talking to the butler and probably hadn't heard anything of what they had said... or, if he had thanks to his miraculous hearing, he didn't say anything about it when he turned to them. "Do you wish for anything? We could stop here to eat something before we head off."

"Not that we wouldn't love to, but I think that the sooner with get through with this, the better it is," Grace said, and Mosely – who had just opened his mouth to say that hey, sure he wouldn't mind – closed his mouth with a disappointed frown. Gabriel smirked at him, and Mosely snorted softly before looking away.

Von Glower gave a small nod. "As you prefer. We can leave right away," he added, reaching to take his car's keys from a small table not far from the entrance.

Gabriel felt his stomach turning a bit at the thought of digging up a rotting body, but it was a bit too fucking late to change his mind now… and they sure wouldn't get the heart without reaching the body first. He glanced to his left to see Grace nodding, her mouth pulled in a grim line.

"Then off we go," she just said, and they walked outside without saying anything more.

* * *

After having to leave the car and proceed on foot, Elsa had brought the map with her: she had never been there after all, and last thing she needed was getting lost in the woods. But, oddly enough, she didn't need to use it even once: she kept going, knowing exactly where to go, what turns she should take, and kept moving forward through the barely visible paths… as though she had been there countless times.

But she hadn't, she was sure of it. She faintly thought back of how she had immediately known how to find the secret drawer of her grandfather's desk, a drawer whose existence she hadn't even known until minutes earlier. That was equally unexplainable – but after all, she mused as she kept walking, so were her dreams and… _everything_ that had been happening in the past week.

Elsa stopped walking for a moment, adjusted her backpack – she wasn't stupid enough to walk through the woods without bringing at least some stuff with her – and instinctively looked on her left. The small pathway was there, exactly where she had _known_ she'd find it. How she had known it was the question to end all questions, but then again who was she to discuss the one stroke of luck she had had that morning? Of all weird things, at least that was useful to her – especially since she had just gone there with no idea where she should exactly look, her only reference being the general area around the point where the Black Regen and the White Regen joined. So for now she'd just play along… and try not to worry over her sanity too much. Not that it was easy, she mused.

"I'm hiking through some woods I'm never been into because of a dream I had about my dead uncle, looking for said dead uncle. Nobody knows I'm here and if I get lost I'll be doomed. Not that it's much of a risk, because it looks like I somehow know how to move here even though I've never been here, but the part of my brain that _knows_ isn't willing to share much of anything with the rest, let alone the reason why it _knows_. And last but not least," she muttered as she stepped past a fallen tree and then changed direction just because she felt like it would be a good idea for some reason, "I've been talking aloud to myself all morning. Still doing so. Oh, yes, I'm sane. If anyone finds out, I'll get to try out one of those nice jackets with buttons on the back and sleep in an awesome padded cell."

Then make sure no one finds out, her mind supplied.

_Fair enough_.

"I just hope I'm really heading for the right place," she muttered to herself – again. The fact she was so sure about the route she should take didn't necessarily mean she was right about that, and she had gone so deep in the woods without looking at the map that now that thing would be useless to her: how could she use it while not knowing _where_ exactly she was?

For a moment she almost wished she had asked Wilhelm to come with her. She doubted he would be of any help in the woods since he had about as much sense of direction as a jellyfish, but in a worst case scenario in which they got irremediably lost… well, she could live a little longer by finding a new interest in the practice of anthropophagy, couldn't she?

_That was morbid, Elsa. Even for you._

_Oh, sod off, brain. I'm off to find a rotting corpse. It can't get any worse, can it?_

No comeback. That didn't really surprise her: her rational side wasn't really trying hard that day. She kept walking in silence for another while, deeper and deeper through the woods, and she stopped short as a noise reached her ears – that of running water. She glanced on her right, and she could see something gleaming among the trees… a torrent. Small, nowhere near the size of an actual river, but…

_Follow it._

And Elsa did because hey, she had no other clue, so why the hell not. A sudden sense of urgency made her quicken her pace until she was almost running on the bank while following the course of the torrent deeper into the woods – and it was a mistake.

A patch of soft soil at the bank gave in beneath her weight the moment she set her foot on it, leaving her no time at all to try regaining her balance. She only had a moment to realize what was happening, that she was falling and there was nothing for her to hold on to – before she hit the water, which closed back above her head like a shining curtain.

For a moment she felt nothing but surprise, then annoyance. Some idiot she was, she thought, falling into a trickle of water like that, and she tried to get back on her feet…

…and failed to do so, because the torrent was deeper than she had thought and she couldn't reach the bottom.

She couldn't reach the bottom, _and she couldn't swim_ , and the water was flowing fast and her backpack was dragging her down so quickly and… and…

For a few moments her brain seemed to freeze, as though unable to process what was going on, and she stayed still, sinking deeper and deeper and dragged by the flowing water. Then the realization sank in and a part of her brain seemed to get back working, screaming at her that if she didn't try to get back to surface _now_ she would end up looking at daisies from the roots' side. And she tried to get back on surface, she really did, but all she could do was squirming uselessly, her clothes and shoes and backpack and the quick flow of the water making it hard to swim even if she knew how to.

Struggling to keep her eyes open underwater, Elsa desperately tried to not let out any more air – as if it could help for long – and to get at least the backpack off herself, but the flow was growing quicker and her head was spinning - _she_ was spinning, and couldn't manage to get it off. She glanced up to see the sun shining through the gurgling surface, so strong that it almost hurt her eyes.

_Shouldn't human beings float, dammit?_

_Corpses do float. Maybe they'll find you if this torrent drags you somewhere near to civilization. If some animal doesn't get you first, that's it._

The thought of dying there, and like that, was like a punch in the gut. Elsa tried to somehow kick the bottom of the torrent to push herself upwards somehow, but she her foot barely touched some rock and immediately slipped off it, and the movement only made her sink even deeper.

_Well, this is it. You're about to drown in some trickling of water barely worth being called a torrent like a kitten in a puddle, all because you never bothered to learn how to swim. What a stupid way to go. Looks like there will be another corpse the police will have to look for in the woods. Wonder if they'll ever find you if this trickle doesn't get you anywhere close to civilization._

The pain in her chest became unbearable and she opened her mouth, all the air still left leaving her lungs before icy cold, muddy water filled her mouth with a slightly coppery taste. Hell, she had to breathe or she would really die, she needed air…!

She made one last attempt at getting back to surface, but she could only manage to waste more energy and oxygen, and she knew there wouldn't be another chance to try when everything suddenly seemed to get darker and she could actually feel her thoughts slipping away from her, like sand running through her fingers. She desperately tried to cling to consciousness, to not pass out only to drown, but now putting any kind of thought together was so difficult, so difficult…!

_Wilhelm! Where are you, damn you? Where the fuck-_

Before she could even realize what was crossing her mind she felt something roughly grabbing the collar of her shirt and pulling her upwards. Hadn't she been on the verge of passing out for the lack of oxygen she might have recognized the peculiar feeling of teeth grazing her neck, of hot breath against the back of her head, but she didn't, not right away – all that she could acknowledge was that air was rushing in her lungs again and it felt good, so good. She was too busy drawing in convulsive breaths to realize that something was dragging her back to the bank until she actually felt the ground beneath her.

Even then, it took her a few moments to stop gasping for air and lift her head to look around, still feeling dizzy. "What… who…?" she breathed, trying to see who or what had it been to drag her to safety, but she could see anyone – she could only hear a sound, something that sounded like a howl, but it was weak and she couldn't really tell if it came from the woods around her or in from her own head.

Her head fell back on the ground and she drew in a deep breath, faintly wondering if the howl she had just heard was just in her mind – if not, she was screwed: what if the zoo wolves were still around? Still, she couldn't will herself to get up: she felt so dizzy, and her eyelids seemed to weight a ton each, and… and…

Damn it, she couldn't stay awake anymore. She just couldn't – she needed to rest just a minute. Only a minute, she told herself, fully knowing it wasn't true, but at that point she didn't have any energy and she didn't even care of the fact she would be passed out alone in the woods. She was barely alive, she needed to rest and she didn't give a damn. She would rest, and then she would resume walking, wet clothes and all: after getting that far, she couldn't just get back home and wait for the next nightmare – because there would be more, she was sure of it.

Well, was her last thought before she blacked out with the scent of earth and dead leaves filling her nostrils, nightmares or not it looked like getting to that point was yet another thing to add to her rather long list of not-really-bright ideas.

* * *

"This is the place."

Von Glower's voice snapped Gabriel from his thoughts, the vast majority of which consisted in variations of 'Jesus Christ I don't want to do this'. He looked up to see von Glower setting down the spade he had been carrying and kneeling on what looked everything like a bunch of rocks and dirt on the forest ground, next to a small rocky formation. He ignored Mosely's pants and mutters on how he had thought it would be easier walking up to that point – had that guy really gone through the cop training once? – and approached von Glower.

"So he's there?" he asked quietly, his gaze fixed on the bunch of rocks and dirt that was Garr von Zell's grave. Some grass had started to grow in some points between rocks.

"Yes. Beneath these rocks there's the cave's entrance. It's far smaller than the… the one you've seen near the lodge, but it's more than enough to lay a body. It was large enough to provide shelter to the both of us in our beastly form, so…" his voice seemed to weaken for a moment before he took the spade again and straightened himself. "I'll start removing the rocks, then I'll get inside to take him out. You may want to stay back. I wrapped the body in several layers of plastic, but… it still won't be pleasant. Especially not for you, now that you have a werewolf's enhanced sense of smell."

Yeah, that was something Gabriel could easily believe. He nodded and walked back up to Grace and Mosely, who stood at the border of the small clearing. "Shouldn't we… help him out?" Grace asked somewhat hesitantly while she observed von Glower getting to work with the spade.

Gabriel followed her gaze, then slowly shook his head. "No. I don't think he'd accept it anyway. That's something he's got to do himself," he said quietly, fully aware of the fact von Glower's sensitive hearing could certainly catch every word if he spoke any louder. "Not enough to make up for the mess he did with the guy's brain, but…"

"But it's all he can do," Grace finished. "Yes, I understand."

They stayed silent for several minutes, their gazes fixed on the bunch of rocks and dirt von Glower was removing from the cave's entrance, and then, when most of the rocks keeping it hidden were gone, it reached Gabriel's sensitive nostrils – the smell of rotting flesh. It was much weaker than what he had to endure in von Zell's lair, the distance and layers of plastic certainly having a hand in it, but now that his sense of smell was much more developed than before it was still enough to make him gag.

"What's up, Knight?" Mosely asked with a frown.

"The fucking smell, what do you think?" Gabriel almost growled, putting a hand over his nose and mouth. "Christ, you can't smell yet, but I sure as hell _can_. And here I thought it was a cool side effect."

"Complain, complain," Mosely muttered with a somewhat childish grin, which vanished as soon as he looked back to von Glower. He was done removing the rocks and dirt, and the cave's entrance was now visible. Gabriel could see him tensing for a moment – just how bad could the smell be to him over there? – before crouching down and then sliding inside the hole on the ground.

Some moments passed, none of them speaking, and Gabriel had barely the time to realize just how clearly he could hear each and every sound of the forest around them before von Glower climbed back out carrying something in his arms – something that was clearly a human body wrapped into a black blanket.

The realization hit him at the same moment as another wave of stench, stronger than before, of rotting flesh. And this time Mosely and Grace smelled it, too, for they stepped back and put a hand over their own mouth. Grace gagged, and Gabriel… Gabriel could only stare at the body von Glower was gently leaning on the ground, the body of the beast – the man – he had killed; the Schattenjäger's second kill. Gabriel clenched his jaw against the memory of the last shudder that had passed through von Zell's frame, the faint whimper that had left him before he stilled and lay dead on the forest ground.

Then, after a moment of hesitation, von Glower pulled the blanket off the body.

The stench assaulted Gabriel's nostrils again, and the sight made him take step back. Mosely was a little green on the face and Grace gagged again before she shut her eyes – but von Glower didn't falter: he remained kneeling next to the body, his gaze fixed on Garr von Zell's disfigured face through the transparent plastic he had wrapped the corpse into.

When he had laid him there he looked like he was sleeping, but now, even with the plastic keeping the body from falling apart, his flesh was decaying and rotting away, and the only part of him he could easily recognize was the mop of blond hair on his head – and God, he had hoped that he'd never have to see him like that.

But now, now he felt as though he had to. He was there to try saving at least his soul, and he had no right – _no right_ – to turn away from what he had caused. Not again.

_Never again_.

Von Glower sighed mournfully before speaking, his eyes still fixed on von Zell's corpse. "You may want to move on your right so that you won't be downwind," he said, his voice flat and emotionless. "It will be worse when I'll cut his chest open."

Something in Gabriel's stomach turned at the thought, and he immediately nodded. "Yeah. Right. Got it," he said, turning to quickly walk where von Glower has instructed, and both Mosely and Grace followed him just as quickly. When he looked again in his direction, von Glower was reaching to take a sharp knife from a pocket of his hunting clothes. He let if hover above von Zell's chest for a few moments, as if hesitating, but then he plunged it through the plastic and rotten flesh. There was some kind of… squishy sound, and Grace turned away with a shudder while Mosely ran back through the trees and threw up, but Gabriel did neither: he just kept staring, unable to tear his gaze away.

After this, he thought, getting some blood from some relative was going to be a piece of cake. He still didn't know how right he was on that: actually, the blood they needed was on its way to reach them in that very moment.

* * *

Elsa didn't know exactly how it had taken her to awaken – her watch had stopped working when she had fallen in the torrent, damn it – but the sun didn't seem to have moved much, if at all, so she was pretty sure not even a hour had passed.

And, of course, there was the fact her clothes and hair hadn't dried _at all_. And the sweatshirt she had in the backpack was, of course, just as soaked as the rest of her stuff. "Just my luck," she muttered to no one in particular as she took just a few things – the compass, a knife and some water – before leaving the backpack behind. Not that she loved the idea of doing that, but now that everything in it was wet it weighted a ton and she sure as hell wouldn't go far with that on her shoulders.

On the other hand hey, she was still alive after thinking she was going to drown, so there was at least one thing to be glad about. _How_ she exactly was still alive was a pretty good question – someone had dragged her upwards, of that she was sure, but there was nobody at all when she had looked around. As she kept following the course of the torrent, keeping herself well away from the bank, she tried to recall what exactly she had felt when she had been pulled upwards. There had been an odd sensation, she recalled, something that felt a lot like… _teeth_ grazing at the nape of her neck? Yes, something like that. It was ridiculous, of course – who would pull someone on surface by grabbing the collar of their shirt with their _teeth_? – but then again she had _also_ felt something else, hot breath against her hair.

_And then there was the howl. You heard a howl before passing out._

She snorted. "Yeah, sure," she said to no one in particular. No, that couldn't be it. Alright, she had been seeing and dreaming insane stuff lately, but she drew a fucking line at the idea some escaped zoo wolf decided to pull her up from a torrent, drag her back on the ground and then graciously disappear without even trying to take a bite of her. Okay, she was pretty sure she would taste pretty bad, but she doubted wolves would be picky in the wild.

Perhaps it wasn't a normal wolf, her mind supplied.

The thought made her stop on her tracks for a few moments, a memory suddenly making it back in her mind – that of the first odd nightmare she had, barely days before. Her uncle sitting on his usual armchair, telling her to look for one Gabriel Knight, and then… then he wasn't on the the armchair anymore, and in his place there was a huge, reddish beast.

A wolf.

_It had to mean something. Too many of the things you dreamed of match reality_

Elsa thought back of the sensation of being dragged out of the water by some kind of animal, of the howl she had heard and of the beast that had taken Garr von Zell's place in her dream, and shook her head almost angrily. "Give me a break," she muttered to no one in particular before resuming walking. She wasn't really sure where that train of thought was going, really, but she knew it was too out there even by her standards and what the hell, she couldn't just waste time. She had to find-

A sudden sound reached her ears, causing her to stop walking again. It was an harsh, unpleasant sound she recognized after a few moments – the sound of someone throwing up, and it was coming from a little further ahead. Was there someone else there? Did they need help?

_Only one way to find out._

True enough, she thought – and besides, that was where she was heading already. Then something else reached her ears. Voices. A sudden sense of urgency pervaded her, her heart beating somewhere in her throat as the voices sounded closer, and she ran the rest of the way.

Moments later, she would wish she had ran in the opposite direction.

* * *

"I'm not sure I got the last word of your speech, Mose. Care to repeat?" Gabriel called out with some forced cheerfulness while he looked at Mosely wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, still fighting not to start gagging again.

"You're an asshole, you know, Knight?" Mosely growled, drawing in a long breath before standing straight again and taking a few steps away from the tree he had been leaning onto.

Gabriel grinned and opened his mouth to utter some other taunt, but then something reached his now sensitive ears – the sounds of something running through on the forest ground. No, not something – _someone_ , because it sounded all the world like a _person_ running, and the steps were heading right in their direction, von Zell's body was in plain sight with a cut in its chest and von Glower was putting the rotting heart inside a jar... and there was no way anyone walking in the clearing could miss _that_.

_Shit_.

Gabriel was about to turn and warn von Glower and Grace – like there was anything they could do in only seconds – but he didn't get a chance to even try, because before he could even turn Elsa Schröder emerged from the trees on Mosely's left… and skidded to a halt, a perfectly audible gasp leaving her, her eyes widening as they fell on the dead, rotting body still in plain sight on the ground, on the knife that had been used to cut through its chest and the blackened heart in the jar von Glower was now holding.

_Well_ , Gabriel thought, _damn_.

For several moments no one moved, no one said anything – they all just stared at Elsa, and she stared at the decaying corpse on the ground with wide eyes, face blank with shock. Then somewhere above them a bird shrieked, and Elsa seemed to recoil. She tore her eyes away from the body and looked at them, and Gabriel could see something else other than shock finally showing on her face – fear. The fear of the cornered animal that knows it's about to become prey, that of an animal facing death, that of an animal that realizes that there are only two possibilities left – try fighting, or run.

And, ill-tempered as she may be, influenced or not by a crazy werewolf's spirit, she had to know she was at disadvantage, that she'd have no chance to win if she tried to fight – and, as far as she knew, they may as well kill her and cut her heart out as well. Gabriel could see that realization dawning on her one moment before she turned and tried to run.

_SHIT._

"Mose!" Gabriel called out, and there was no need for him to add anything else. There had been no need for him to even cry out, really, because Mose clearly did have some cop instinct in him, and sprang – hell, could he still do that? – in action the moment Elsa turned to run. She let out a cry of rage and terror when Mosely's left arm wrapped around her mid-section and the other latched itself around her neck, and she immediately began thrashing and kicking, scratching his arm in the attempt of breaking free. But it was no use: Mosely was still much larger and definitely stronger, and he managed to keep his grip on her while he dragged her back to the clearing.

"You know, Grace, I _think_ this may just be the moment to tell her the whole story," Gabriel said, turning to see Grace and von Glower approached – though von Glower kept some distance, something Gabriel's nostrils were pretty grateful for: after cutting out a corpse's heart he didn't really smell of violets. He kind of hoped he'd wash that off in a river or something before they all had to be in the same car. Then again there was another, more pressing matter they had better take care of before they even thought of heading back. A pressing matter that was currently shrieking like a Banshee, which made her kinda hard to forget about.

"Sounds like the only option. The other would be having to give a _lot_ of explanations to police," Grace muttered. Gabriel half-considered making a joke on how they could just kill her and get her blood that way, but he held back, not really wanting to say anything that would make her panic even more. He eventually just sighed and stepped closer to her and Mosely, lifting his arms.

"Look, I know this looks all kinds of wrong, but we have an explana-"

He was suddenly cut off by Mosely's startled cry when Elsa did something that Gabriel knew was normal from someone trying to break free from the grasp of a much stronger opponent – but that, given the circumstances, seemed grimly ironic to him: she sank her teeth in Mosely's arm. He cried out, instinctively letting her go of her to grab his injured forearm, and the next second she was running again… but this time she wasn't running away – she was running straight to _Gabriel_. Her hand disappeared behind her back for a moment and came back holding something that gleamed silver in the sunlight and now she was bringing back her arm and crying out in anger and-

_Fuck, fuck, FUCK._

Gabriel's instinct kicked him just in time, just a moment before Grace's warning cry, and he hastily stepped aside – just in time to avoid being stabbed by the hiking knife she swung at him. He could hear her _growling_ when she missed and turned to try again, as though shock and anger had made every sense of self-conservation in her vanish, but she didn't get that second try: she wasn't fast enough, while von Glower was – he was fast as a bolt of lighting.

Before Gabriel even knew it he was right beside him, right beside _her_ , and he was reaching to grab her arm to keep her from trying to stab him again. She tried to struggle, but she was no match for a werewolf, and within seconds the knife was on the ground and von Glower was keeping her immobilized, his arm around her throat.

Not that it kept her from trying to break free, of course. Gabriel was suddenly reminded of what Klingmann had told him about the language spoken between predator and prey, one he had referred to as the Language of Death.

_I am Death. Are you ready to go?_

_No_ , Elsa's attempts at fighting back said clearly, _you will not take me now._

But von Glower had no intention to kill her, of course, he had no intention to kill any human being ever again… right?

_Right_?

"Gabriel! Are you alright?"

Grace's concerned voice snapped him from his thoughts. He turned to look at her and managed to grin. "Yeah, I'm fine. It was close enough, but hey, not a scratch," he said, and bent to pick up the hiking knife. "Better keep this outta her reach. Not that I think she'll get to break free," he added, glancing back at Elsa and von Glower. Von Glower seemed to have tightened the pressure on her throat, which had had the effect of making her stop moving. He was keeping his pressure on her neck loose so that she could breathe, but tight enough for her to know he could snap her neck any instant.

"Please," von Glower said quietly. "I do not wish to harm you."

She stayed still, either because of von Glower's words or because she had just realized how much stronger than her he was, and her anger vanished, only leaving behind white-faced terror. Gabriel couldn't blame her: the guy holding her down still had the stench of her uncle's decaying corpse on his hands, and she had seen him holding his cut-out heart in a jar.

"Holy shit," Mosely's growl reached Gabriel's ears, and he noticed only then that the larger man's forearm was bleeding – she sure had bitten him hard. "Where did this hellspawn come from?"

Gabriel grinned a little. "Yeah, guess it's time to make some introductions. Say hello to von Zell's niece. The lovely attitude runs in the family, I think."

Mosely's eyes widened in alarm. "It's her? But what… how… she isn't a werewolf, too, is she?" he asked, still holding his bleeding arm.

"Nah, she's not. She'd have put up a better fight than _this_ if she were," Gabriel muttered, turning to see just how easily von Glower was holding her still. "And even if she were hey, you'd finally get some hair. Not as gorgeous as this," he ran his hand through his own hair with a smug grin, "but still _hair_ , Mostly."

"That's not funny, Knight," Mosely grunted, pretending to not have noticed how Grace was smirking.

"I was totally serious," he said with a shrug before finally turning to Elsa, who was still unmoving in von Glower's grip, clearly too terrified to try anything. He smiled at her as if they had just met in a bar and were about to chat over a beer. "So, I guess we owe you some, uh… explanation," he said.

Her grey eyes finally focused on him, and the terror was suddenly replaced by fury. She looked as though she were trying to decide which bone she'd break first should she somehow break free from von Glower's grasp and get her hands on him. Man, wasn't she pissed.

"Explanation?" she rasped despite the pressure on her throat. " _Explanation_? I see only one explanation here! You- von Glower- all of you…!" she paused and shuddered, clearly trying not to gag: in their struggle she and von Glower had ended up rather close to the corpse, and she only needed to tilt her head slightly to see it. "Is that…?" she finally managed to choke out, her anger once more giving in to fear and horror.

Von Glower sighed. "Yes. It's von Zell, or what's left of him. I'm sorry you had to see him like this."

She said nothing for a few moments, then a sudden shudder shook her whole frame, and von Glower released her. She didn't try to get away, she didn't seem to have the strength to – she simply fell on her hands and knees and retched on the forest ground, her eyes watering and her frame shuddering. Gabriel couldn't say he blamed her: he had thrown up, too, after making it out of von Zell's lair.

"I truly am sorry," von Glower said quietly. "I promise I will not harm you. None of us will. We-"

"Won't harm me?" Elsa gave a rasping laugh, that of someone not too far away from losing it. "Do you think you sound convincing? You… the corpse over there, you… what did you _do_ , you fucking _psycho_?" she growled, shakily getting back on her feet and taking a few steps back. She didn't try to run, though – she must have realized it would be useless now.

"We're trying to _help_ him," Grace spoke before von Glower could, and Elsa winced, clearly not having even acknowledged her presence until that moment. "Believe it or not, we're trying to help. And he needs _your_ help, too. We would have contacted you to explain, sooner or later," she sighed. "Guess it had to be sooner."

Elsa stared at her as though she was completely insane. Not surprising, Gabriel thought.

"Help him?" she almost screeched. " _Help him_? He's dead! And you… you tore his…" she gagged again. "You tore his heart out, after you…" a pause, a deep breath, and she turned back to Gabriel and von Glower. "You killed him, didn't you?" she croaked.

A brief silence followed. "I had to," Gabriel finally spoke. "He was out to kill me that night. In the woods. It was me or him."

The answer didn't seem to surprise her at all, and she didn't for one moment try to argue her uncle wouldn't have done a such thing - but that was something Gabriel would realize only later. It was as though the idea had crossed her mind before, too.

"Then why the _hell_ didn't you report it?" she snapped. "If it was self-defense, why didn't you call the police? Why did you… you hid the body and now… now you had to go and…" her voice shook and she seemed about to gag once more. " _Why_? He's dead! Why did you do _this_ to him?"

Von Glower drew in a deep breath. "To help him," he said. "That's what we're doing. And that's why you're here. To _help_ him," he added, and stared at her straight in the eyes. "Tell me, why are you here? What _brought_ you here?"

The question seemed to catch Elsa by surprise. "I…"

Von Glower smiled faintly. " _He_ guided you here, did he not? You're here today because Garr von Zell wanted you to."

A long silence followed, but the way she had recoiled was enough of an answer to Gabriel – von Glower's statement had hit the mark. It looked like he had been right all along: von Zell had formed a connection with her, one like that Ludwig could form with Grace to guide her to the truth.

"How… would you know that?" she finally asked quietly.

"Something like that happened to me, too," Grace spoke up. "Only with… someone else. Someone else who needed the same kind of help"

"Someone else?" Elsa repeated, clearly having trouble to catch up. "Who…?"

Grace smiled a little. "You'll most likely think I'm insane."

"I walked in you guys cutting out a corpse's heart," she countered, and gave a slightly unhinged sort of laugh. "Nothing you say can top _that_. So tell me."

Grace hesitated only for a moment before replying. "King Ludwig II of Bavaria."

Elsa stared at her for several moments. "… Come again?"

"You heard me."

"Ludwig II?" Elsa repeated, dumbstruck. "The mad king? Are you _kidding_?"

Von Glower's jaw tightened slightly. "I'd be grateful if you didn't refer to him that way," he said quietly. "She is perfectly serious. There is a… rather long story behind this. One that connects Ludwig's fate with your uncle's through me."

She raised an eyebrow. "You're making even less sense than when you were claiming that tearing out a corpse's heart would _help_ said corpse," she said, her voice dangerously even, and Gabriel wondered just how much more her mind could take.

"It's no surprise you'd think so," von Glower admitted. "As I said, there is a very long story behind it all. But…" he paused for a moment before reaching to unbutton his jacket. "I suppose you cannot be expected to believe a word of what we say without at least seeing something with your own eyes."

Gabriel found himself staring while von Glower let his jacket fall on the ground, and only recoiled when he saw him reaching to unbutton his shirt as well. "Ah," he rasped, forcing himself to stare at von Glower's face rather than and the skin he was revealing. "So, uh… you think she should see by herself?"

Von Glower nodded, discarding the shirt and reaching down to unbuckle his belt. "I do believe that's the quickest way to prove that what we're going to tell is no twisted fantasy of ours," he said, and he seemed about to add something else, but two voices cut him off – Mosely's, and Elsa's.

"Wait, what the…?" Mosely stammered, the wound on his arm forgotten at the notion that von Glower had suddenly started stripping in front of them for no reason whatsoever, at least as far as he could tell.

Elsa sounded just as surprised, and most definitely alarmed as hell. "The _fuck_ are you doing?" she almost shrieked, taking another few steps back and clearly starting to consider again the idea of trying to run away. Gabriel couldn't really blame her, really: it doesn't happen every day that the guy you meet in the forest while cutting off your dead uncle's heart starts stripping in front of you. For a moment he thought back of the voodoo ceremony in the hounfour, but he was quick to chase away the memory.

"He's going to Change," Grace said, sounding perfectly collected. After all, Gabriel mused, she had already seen von Glower both as the Black Wolf and naked… and so had he, so why should that make _him_ uneasy while it left her unfazed?

"Yes, that I am," von Glower said with a nod, getting his boots and trousers off himself as well. "My apologies if this seems improper, but I'm not looking forward to end up strangled in my own clothes."

Grace gave a faint chuckle. "I can imagine."

"He's going to… oh. Oh, I get it," Mosely muttered with a small, nervous laugh. "I didn't know what to think for a moment."

"He's going to do _what_?" Elsa snapped, sounding both baffled and… annoyed? Alarmed? Hard to tell, now. "Change? How's getting a change of clothes going to make me believe you _shouldn't_ be thrown into a damn asylum?"

Gabriel laughed. It wasn't a really amused laugh, but the whole situation felt so damn surreal that he couldn't help it. "Yeah, but _this_ is gonna be a change of clothes like you've never seen." He grinned at her. "From skin to fur in ten seconds or less."

Elsa blinked. "Wha-" she began, but then she was cut off by a noise she probably had never heard before and that she probably would never be able to forget from that moment on – that of bones and tendons and muscles bending and breaking and reshaping themselves. She turned back, and Gabriel followed her gaze to see that von Glower was on the ground, and that something beneath his skin was moving, shifting, _changing_. And then black fur sprouted from his skin and hid it from view, his skull flattened, his face turned into a muzzle and his teeth grew into fangs, and only seconds later von Glower was no more – the Black Wolf stood where he had been crouching, orange eyes staring back at them.

"Holy shit," Gabriel heard Mosely muttering somewhere behind him, and it occurred to him that before that moment Mosely had never seen him as the Black Wolf before. "Just… is that… holy _shit_."

"Impressive, yeah. But at least you didn't have to see one into a forest at night, or in a dark basement, or-" Gabriel began, but he was cut off by the a thump. He turned to see that Elsa had staggered back until her back hit a tree. She now leaned heavily on it, eyes fixed on the creature in the middle of the clearing, too shocked and terrified and bewildered to react in any way.

She stayed still and stared in silence as the huge black wolf turned back into its human form, the snapping sounds of tendons and muscle and bones changing shape and direction barely making her wince. And then von Glower was _himself_ again, and it was only after several moments that she could finally work her jaw enough to speak in an almost inaudible whisper.

"… I need a cigarette."


	14. Blood

By the time von Glower was done talking – and it hadn't been a brief explanation, no matter how much he tried to sum up: he had a couple of centuries to cover after all, from his father's curse to his affair with Ludwig and then to his relationship with Garr von Zell; the mistake he had made by Changing him and the truth behind the wolf killings, and von Zell's own death in the woods – Elsa had smoked more than just a cigarette: she had finished the whole pack Mosely had given her.

"Fine," she spoke slowly when von Glower finally fell quiet, her voice so dangerously even that Gabriel had to fear again for her sanity or what was left of it. "Let's see if I've got this. You're a werewolf who happens to be a couple of centuries and a half old. You're also gay as a fruitcake and been looking for a companion. But the side effect to the bite is madness. You turned the mad kin- Ludwig II into a werewolf. He went stark raving mad, but you still wanted to give a shot at companionship, so you came up with this… philosophy thing to prepare your potential boyfriends. You started the hunting club to select those who could get into the philosophy – what the hell made you choose von Aigner, honestly? – and met my uncle. Offered him to be like you, and he accepted. All's fine until he goes batshit crazy and goes around killing people, so end of the honeymoon. That's what you're saying, right? That he grew fur and fangs and went hunting people and eating them. Is that it?" she asked, her voice still too even not to be worrying. It was pretty damn clear she would have ran away before hearing even half the tale hadn't she _seen_ , with her own eyes, von Glower turning into a werewolf and back.

Von Glower nodded. "Yes," he said quietly. "You must understand, I never wanted to him to go insane. I had hoped he could escape the madness. But he did not, and… he was no longer himself, believe me. The Blood had damaged his mind, and there was no turning him back. Something had to be done, but as the alpha I could not harm one of my own doing. Then fate provided the answer, so that both those deaths and von Zell's suffering could cease," he added, and gave a small smile in Gabriel's direction. "Gabriel is the last of a long line of chosen-"

Elsa lifted her hand, causing him to trail off. "Is his lineage strictly relevant to what happened to my uncle?"

"Well… not terribly, no."

"Then spare me. I think I'm dealing with enough shit as it is. So, Mr. Knight here killed him in the woods because he was out to kill _him_ ," she said, turning to glance at Gabriel for a moment. There was still some anger in her gaze, but mostly confusion. "Was he…?"

Von Glower nodded. "In his beastly form, yes. It was him to bite Gabriel – not one of the zoo wolves."

Elsa blinked. "Doesn't that make you a werewolf as well now?" she asked, glancing back at Gabriel warily.

"Not for long," Grace got there before he could even open his mouth. "We're sort of… working on it. But for now it's your uncle and Ludwig we're on to help."

A snort of a laugh came from Elsa. "Oh, right. The _help_. How could I forget. The reason why you have his heart in a fucking jar right now, right? What's your explanation for _that_?"

Von Glower sighed. "Remember what we said earlier?" he asked. "That von Zell guided you here the same way Ludwig guided Grace to the truth before?"

"Yes. What of it?" Elsa asked, but for a moment she thought back of when something had pulled her out of the torrent, of the sensation of teeth grazing against the back of her neck, and she wondered if he had done more than just _guiding_ her. He had saved her life; for his own ends, maybe, because he needed her alive to find his body, but the point still stood she would have drowned without that intervention. It had been him, it _must_ have been him.

"He shouldn't have been able to," von Glower said quietly. "Departed souls do not belong to this world. But some – the tainted ones – are unable to leave. And the souls of werewolves who died as such are among those, blocked halfway and unable to rest."

She stared at him for a few moments, realization finally dawning on her. "So he's… stuck, right? Is that what you're saying?" she asked, wondering – not the first time – how could her pretty damn normal life have turned into some kind of cheesy B-movie about ghost werewolves in the span of a few days. She wouldn't be having one single word of all that madness hadn't she just _seen_ that guy turning into a beast the size of a pony and then back into a man.

A pretty damn good looking man. Naked.

In _entirely_ different circumstances, Elsa may have appreciated that detail.

"Yes," Grace said. "This is why we're taking the heart: it is needed for a ceremony to free his soul. We already have Ludwig's, and-"

Elsa blinked. "Wait," she said. "Ludwig II's heart? You just… walked into the shrine and stole a royal embalmed heart?"

Gabriel grinned a little sheepishly. "He did it," he said, nodding to von Glower. "It should have been Mose to do it, really, but he had the brilliant idea to eat too many sausages the night before, and-"

"That's not relevant, Knight!" Mosely barked, speaking up for the first time in quite a while. He was still pressing a tissue on the wound on his arm. Gabriel grinned at him before turning his attention back to von Glower, who was resuming speaking.

"Yes, I did. It will be returned to its resting place, of course, once the ceremony is complete. It has to be done on a night of new moon – in two weeks there will be one."

Elsa drew in a long, deep breath. "Fine. Fine. Let's say this ceremony of yours works. What then?"

It was Grace to answer. "As someone who never tasted human blood, Ludwig will move on to the afterlife. Von Zell, however, did taste human blood – so his soul, instead of moving on, will be sent back."

Elsa stared. "Sent back," she repeated.

"Yes."

"As in…?"

"He'll get a second chance at life."

More silence. "Are you talking of reincarnation? Please tell me you're not. Because this sounds enough like fucking Twilight Zone, only about a million times cheesier."

Grace shrugged.

Elsa wasn't sure what to think of that – it sounded a lot like he would lose, along with the curse, everything that had made him _himself_ – but on the other hand, it couldn't be worse than being stuck… and she had no doubt now that he was stuck: he was still _there_ , after all, and was not supposed to. In the end, she nodded.

"Alright, fine. You do the ceremony and free their souls. Works for me. What kind of shit is it? You need the heart, no moon, and what else?"

There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence as Gabriel, Grace and von Glower uneasily glanced at each other. While she seemed to have calmed down, they probably needed to be careful in letting her know her blood was going to be needed: she had walked into them cutting out a corpse's heart, after all, so she could jump to all the wrong conclusions on how much blood they needed and how they'd take it.

"Well we also need a silver bowl," Grace said slowly.

Elsa snorted. "Silver. Go figure. Do you _have_ a silver bowl, or do I have to steal it from my grandmother's house? She wouldn't notice anyway."

Von Glower chuckled. "I believe we can find two silver bowls without resorting to theft," he said pleasantly. "But I am glad to know you're willing to help us."

"Not you," Elsa cut him off sharply, turning to glance – only for a moment – in the clearing's direction, where Garr von Zell's body was. They had moved a little further in the woods, so they wouldn't have to see and smell it as they spoke. "It's the asshole over there I'm helping out. So that he just stops bothering me," she muttered, then she stood from the fallen trunk she had been sitting onto with a sigh. "Guess you're going to hide the body again," she said. She highly doubted the police would believe a single word of what she had just heard… nor they would react well should Baron von Glower turn into a wolf in front of them to prove his words true. More likely than not, he'd be shot into Swiss cheese before he was even halfway through the transformatiom.

Von Glower nodded. "Yes. We cannot allow it to be retrieved, you see. It would raise questions, and you certainly can imagine _what_ questions. Besides…" he hesitated, then, "That cave was a special place for him. For us. Let it be his final resting place."

Elsa sighed. "Not _that_ final if he's really going to through this damn hassle called life all over again, but fine. Whatever. Put him back in and-"

"Hey, wait a moment," Mosely spoke up, startling most of them – they had forgotten his presence for a few minutes. He was frowning in thought, as though trying to recall something, and Gabriel knew his expression: it was the one he usually had when he was about to say something he really, _really_ shouldn't say.

Gabriel wasn't wrong on that.

"Isn't there supposed to be blood in the ritual, too? Like, blood of a relative? I'm pretty sure you mentioned- _ow_! OW!" he yelped when Grace stomped on his foot without even trying to be subtle.

"Shut. Up. Now," she hissed, but it was a bit too damn late: Gabriel could see Elsa stiffening, eyes widening and then moving to the woods on their left as though she was trying to evaluate what the fastest escape route could be.

"Wait, wait, _wait_ ," Gabriel called out, holding up his arms and giving what he hoped would look like a totally harmless grin. "Look, I know it sounds bad, but it's not going to be bloody, honest."

Her eyes narrowed. "If it's got anything to do with _blood_ it's bound to be _bloody_ , you idiot," she snapped. "What the hell is this about blood of a relative? Excuse me if I'm asking, being a _relative_ and all."

Gabriel opened his mouth to speak, but von Glower got there first. "We apologize for not telling you right away," he said quietly. "We were afraid you could-"

"Freak out," Gabriel suggested helpfully.

Something remarkably close to a chuckle escaped von Glower. "I wouldn't have quite put it that way, but yes. We feared we'd upset you."

Elsa stared back at him, her face dangerously devoid of any expression. "Are you purposely avoiding to tell you how you'd take my blood and how much?" she asked, dead-panned. "Because if it's a human sacrifice or some shit like that you're planning, then allow me to give you my mother's address and-"

"No, no! No such thing will be done," von Glower quickly reassured her.

"We won't need much blood," Grace added. "Just enough to fill the bowl, and the bowl doesn't need to be much bigger than the heart. Have you ever donated blood?"

" _No_."

"Not surprised," Gabriel muttered, earning himself a glare from Grace.

"It isn't much," she spoke up. "It is a perfectly safe amount of blood to remove, believe me. It's done all the time in hospitals. There is a dispensary in Rittersberg, and I'm certain they're equipped for blood transfusions," she added.

Elsa still looked suspicious, but she had to find Grace more believable than the rest of them, for she finally nodded. "Fine. _Fine_. Not that I love the idea but… fine," she growled, reaching up to massage her temples. "I just want this damn mess to be done with."

"Tell me about it," Gabriel muttered, some bitterness making it in his own voice against his own will. He envied her, in a way: once von Zell's soul was freed or whatever, she would really be done with anything involving werewolves – all while he was stuck as one, still having no idea in hell how to get out of that damn mess. "Anyway, uh… how about burying him again and heading back? Someone could walk in us and ask a few questions."

For once, no one questioned him – not even Elsa, who seemed pretty damn thoughtful. She kept to herself while von Glower wrapped von Zell's corpse in some more plastic before laying him back into the cave and sealing its entrance again, and she said next to nothing as they walked back to the clearing, not too far away, where they had left von Glower's car. They had reached the car when she finally spoke again.

"What about Ludwig?" she asked.

Mosely, who was still checking worriedly the bite wound she had left on his arm, blinked. "What about him?"

"What do you think? You'd need blood of a relative for him as well, and he sure died a long time ago."

Grace bit her lower lip. "We don't know, but we must think of something. It's the only thing we're missing."

"How close should this relative be?" Elsa inquired, frowning in thought.

"Anything within the seventh generation," Grace said. "That's all we know. And we found several different branches of the family, mainly his brother's descendants. I think there must be at least some who are within the seventh generation, but I haven't yet worked out how we can get their blood unless we give one of them a blow on the- what are you doing?" she asked as Elsa began pacing back and forth.

"Trying to do the math, that's what," she muttered. "Seventh generation… seventh…" She suddenly stopped pacing and looked at von Glower. "Is there a phone on this car?"

"Yes," von Glower replied, clearly wondering what that was about.

"Great. Hope you don't mind if I make a call," Elsa muttered, already grabbing the phone and dialling a number. Gabriel and Mosely exchanged a perplexed look, but they said nothing – they just listened to her as she began to speak… not that it served much, since she was speaking in German: von Glower was the only one who kept listening intently.

"Wilhelm? It's Elsa. Yes, of course I'm fine, what did you think?" she grinned as she listened to whatever the person called Wilhelm was saying on the other line. "Yes, I forgot to call back. So sue me. Yes, it was a nice walk. It sure cleared my head. I'm on my way back to Munich, but I need a favour first. Remember when you said I could ask you for anything? You do? Great. Because right now I need your blood."

* * *

"I still can't believe he fell for that half-assed lie," Gabriel muttered, leaning against the wall of the dispensary and keeping an eye on Rittersberg's central square ahead of them.

"The half-assed lie was the only one I could come up with at the moment," Elsa said dryly. "Besides, it was enough for von Gullible – so let it be enough for you as well, Mr. Knight."

Gabriel lifted his arms. "Fine, fine. I was just wondering if it will work, that's all. I mean, the blood is supposed to be given willingly, right?"

"And that's what he's going to do – give it willingly because he thinks your dispensary needs his blood type right away. Isn't that enough?" Elsa asked, this time turning to Grace, who nodded.

"Yes, that's what I was told. That it needs to be given willingly, but one doesn't have to necessarily know for what reason," she said, and reached to put a hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "Look, why don't you let us handle this? He could get suspicious if he sees too many people waiting here for a simple blood transfusion. Get back in Schloss Ritter and rest a bit."

He hesitated for a moment, then he nodded. "Okay, good point. Besides, my first full moon is going to be here tomorrow night, so… yeah. Better rest a little."

Grace frowned a little. "Right – and Friedrich will be put to test as well, won't he?"

"Yeah, they'll see if he's dangerous or not depending on how he behaves as a beast. You know, Gracie, you still haven't told me since when you two are on first name basis."

That made her pause for a few moments. "We had… a talk, a few nights ago. Cleared some things up. Thought you'd be relieved to know I'm not going to nag you into killing him," she added, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned a little sheepishly. "I am, really. I just… never mind. I'm off. Good luck with this whole… blood transfusion thing," he added, turning to nod at Elsa. She gave him a rather sharp nod, and said nothing: she just watched him leave.

There was a long silence as the two just stood there. Grace tried to think of something to say, if anything to break the uncomfortable silence, but Elsa spoke first.

"How many victims did he make?" she asked, and lit herself a cigarette.

Grace bit her lower lip. "There are five known ones. A woman, two boys, a child…" she paused and had to swallow at the memory of Toni Huber's parents, then, "and another man, in Munich. Grossberg, his name was. He helped him sending the zoo wolves away, and tried to blackmail him when the killings made it to the newspapers."

Elsa took a drag and blew out some smoke before speaking again. "He was fucking lucid for a madman. Planning out the whole zoo wolves red herring and all that so that he could kill in broad daylight. And he could keep up a normal façade," she added.

Grace shook her head. "Not that normal," she replied. "According to Friedrich, his attitude changed very much. He became easy to anger, and everyone could see something was wrong. Of course, no one could imagine what it was exactly." A pause. "I suppose the fact he could still plan out only shows how insane he was."

"Or maybe he was just not as insane as von Glower wants to think he was," Elsa said, some bitterness making it in her voice.

Grace sighed. "I guess we can't know for sure, but… von Glower knew him well before and after the change. He says that the Blood had devastated his mind, that whatever he had been before was no more. And I believe him. He knew him better than anyone else. You included, I suspect."

"Touché," Elsa said in a rather terrible impression of French, and took another drag of the cigarette. "Grace, isn't it? Funny how we've been talking about supernatural shit for a couple of days and didn't get to introduce ourselves."

Grace chuckled. "Yes, that's my name. Listen, I know this is pretty insane and all, but I'm very grateful for your help. Helping Ludwig is… very important to me. You could say it's personal."

Elsa shrugged. "It's alright. If this ceremony thing can actually rid me of my uncle's spirit or whatever, I'm ready to help out whatever deceased guy you want me to help out," she said, then paused. "Well, except my grandfather, maybe. And Hitler. And whoever invented alcohol-free beer."

"Well, alcohol-free beer isn't that ba-"

"You might want not to end that sentence if you really need any blood from either of us," Elsa warned, then shrugged. "It's pretty curious, uh? That I just happened to know – no, pretty much _grew up_ with – someone related to Ludwig. _Very_ distantly – his great-great-whatever the fuck had something to do with Ludwig'd cousin Leopold one way or another – but he's not past the seventh generation starting from the mad king, so he should do."

"Maybe it was no coincidence. Maybe it was fate," Grace murmured, more to herself than to her.

"Fate? You don't sound like one to believe in _fate_. Sure, werewolves and ghosts and rituals, but not _fate_."

"I _do_ believe in self-determination," Grace said somewhat sharply. "But when you see and feel some things at work, things that are not from this world, then you start questioning- what?" she asked when Elsa straightened herself and threw away the cigarette.

"There he is."

Grace followed her gaze to see a blue car making its way to the central square, then reaching it – and taking it the wrong way.

"He has his own idea of how traffic works," Elsa muttered. "Now he'll realize he should go the other way…"

Just as she spoke the car stopped, then began going into reverse.

"… Now he'll accidentally turn off the engine."

The engine turned off.

Grace blinked. "Is he that predictable all the time?"

"Not all the time, no. Only when he's very nervous."

"Why should he be nervous?"

"Haemophobia. I think it started when he was four and the family poodle decided it didn't like being used as a pony. It sure is also the reason why he's afraid of dogs. Would you believe those little shits can bite?"

Grace blinked. "… _Oh_. And he still accepted to donate blood?"

"I asked him. Sure he did. I didn't _force_ him," Elsa added when Grace opened her mouth to ask. "He was willing. I told him it was important, that's all. Hey, he managed to park."

And indeed, the car was now parked in the square, if a little lopsided as though the driver could not find the right angle. The door on the driver's side opened, and Grace found herself holding her breath a little… only to release it a moment later, when said driver stepped out of the car.

She hadn't known what she had expected to see until she had seen the car stopping, and then – for just a moment – she had truly, irrationally expected to see Ludwig himself step out of the car and approach them, with the same tormented beauty and melancholic eyes she had seen in both portraits and her nightmares more than once. But the young man walking through the square and squinting his eyes against the sun did not look like him, not at all: he had plain brown hair that was nothing like Ludwig's black curls, thick glasses and rather forgettable facial features – if she squinted she could see something of Ludwig only in the jaw line, and nothing more.

Grace almost rolled her eyes at her own irrational expectation. But of course he didn't look like him: generations had passed, and they were only distantly related – how could she expect otherwise?

_What he looks like doesn't matter anyway. His blood does. And it will be enough. It has to be._

Beside her, Elsa lifted her arm to give him a quick wave. "What excuse have you cooked up for your father so that you could get a free afternoon?" she asked once he was close enough to the entrance of the dispensary.

"That a witch wanted my blood so that she could bathe in it and be young forever," he replied, and then ducked under Elsa's half-hearted swipe, almost toppling backwards in the process. Grace couldn't help but think his clumsiness was certainly a contrast to how Ludwig would have moved, how quick and graceful he must have been. "That was a joke!" he protested.

Elsa rolled her eyes. "Well, _duh_. How much did it take you to come up with it?"

The young man checked his watch. "About half the car ride."

"Well, that's a feat. Could have bet you'd have needed the whole ride," Elsa muttered before turning to Grace. "Wilhelm, this is Grace Nakimura. Grace, this is-"

"Wilhelm will be fine," the young man tried, but Elsa pretended she hadn't heard him.

"… Luitpold Wilhelm Albrecht Rupprecht von Ehrlichmann," Elsa ignored his protests, and Grace wondered just how much fun she got out of embarrassing him like that. "Did I forget anything?" she added with absolutely fake innocence.

He made a face. "Hans," he said. "How you can remember them all except _Hans_ is beyond me."

"Practice," Elsa said lightly.

Grace smiled at him. "Thank you very much for helping us out. We have very little of your blood type, and this is such an isolated village that one can never be too prepared for emergencies. You can imagine how long it would take for an ambulance to get here."

Wilhelm was a little pale – no wonder, considered he had a phobia for blood – but he did try to smile back. "It's nothing. I'm glad to help."

"I knew I could count on you," Elsa said, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Now, ready to get a huge needle stuck in your arm to suck out about half a litre of blood?"

He paled considerably and took a staggering step back. Grace glared at Elsa. "I don't think you're helping," she pointed out a little coldly. Last thing they needed was that he would change his mind and decide not to give any blood, leaving them in trouble. She turned back to Wilhelm and tried to give him the most reassuring smile she could muster. "It will barely prickle," she promised. "We have a pretty good doctor."

Wilhelm gave a small, nervous laugh. "As long as they don't mind me keeping my eyes shut," he said somewhat sheepishly. For some reason that sheepish smile reminded Grace of Georg, and as she turned to knock on the dispensary's door she took a mental note of calling him one of those days, when supernatural madness would give her a break – so that she could again allow herself to relax and have a normal talk with someone with whom she knew she wouldn't end up discussing of werewolves, curses, blood or rituals.

"I don't think she will," she finally replied just as the door opened, a middle-aged woman standing in the doorframe – a very tall, very imposing middle-aged woman. She looked down at Wilhelm and smiled; Grace supposed she wanted to be friendly, but that smile made her think of a shark… and, judging from the way Wilhelm reared back for a moment, it wasn't just her to think so.

"So, you're the brave one, yes?" she asked in German, clearly enough for Grace to grasp her words.

The young man's already shaky smile wavered. "Well, I, uh, was never exactly a lionhea-"

"Of course he is!" Elsa cut him off, giving him a powerful pat on the back that made him take a step closer to the door. "Bravest blood donor ever. Now go forth and make your ancestors proud. Or something."

The look Wilhelm gave her one moment before the doctor literally grabbed his shoulder and pushed him in was a pretty anguished one, but Elsa didn't seem worried.

"He'll be fine," she said with a shrug as the door closed. Grace raised an eyebrow.

"I don't have to remind you that the blood has to be willingly given for the ritual to work, do I?"

"Look, he came here on his own accord, right? And no one forced him. So he's willing."

"I've seen far more willing people in my life, to be honest."

Elsa snorted. "Willing is not the same as enthusiastic. How about we get something to eat while we wait? I'm ravenous. Nice side effect, as if weird-ass dreams were not enough. I sure hope it will fade once the ritual is done, because I am sure I'm already gaining weight and… what?" she asked with a frown when she noticed Grace was staring at her with narrowed eyes, her arms folded. "Look, what am I supposed to _do_? Go in and hold his hand and make sure the doctor didn't give him a blow on the head to make him pass out before taking the blood?"

"Making sure he _is_ willing would be nice. The ritual won't work if he isn't, and convincing him to donate blood _again_ could be a problem."

Elsa – who had been about to pull out her cigarettes and smoke another one – rolled her eyes. "Fine," she muttered, stuffing the pack back in her pocket. " _Fine_. I'll go in and hold the fair maiden's hand. Whatever. He'll need me to drive him back in Munich once this is done anyway, so I could as well start being a baby sitter now. Guess I can get drained myself while I'm at it," she muttered before opening the door and walking inside. Grace stood there in silence for a few moments, then turned to look up at Schloss Ritter, a thoughtful frown on her face. She knew that the following night there would be a full moon, meaning that von Glower would be put to a test – the villagers wanted to see if he could retain control while in his wolf form, as he claimed he could.

She wasn't worried he'd lose control: she did believe him when he said he could keep it even in his beastly form, as Gabriel could. She wondered if it was a matter of practice – he had had centuries to learn – or if it was in the blood; perhaps being a born werewolf helped him to keep control, the same way Gabriel's Ritter blood helped him to do the same. But that mattered little, in the end: what mattered was that the people of Rittersberg would be willing to give him a chance if he proved himself to be harmless in his beastly form as well as in his human one.

She really, really hoped they would – or at least that they would put the matter to rest for enough time to let von Glower see the souls of two men who had mattered to him being freed from their purgatory. He had been the downfall of both men, true – but he had led such a lonely life that she couldn't entirely fault him for seeking companionship, and it was clear he had not meant for things to go so horribly wrong.

Still, they _had_ gone wrong – and Grace still felt a certain amount of fear at the thought there was a possibility, however slim, that history could repeat itself again and Gabriel would be the one to take the fall.


	15. The Test

Gabriel didn't need to reach von Glower's room to find him: he could tell the moment he stepped in he was in the living room. And he could tell because Gerde was at her usual desk near the door and Mosely was speaking with someone over there in an exceptionally loud voice, so that someone could only be von Glower... though Gabriel wouldn't have been surprised to know good old Mosely was speaking _that_ loud to make sure Gerde heard him as well. Especially once he realized what he was exactly talking about: the difference between his role in Gabriel's novel and the one he had in reality. Gabriel didn't really think he had changed _that_ much, but Mosely apparently did not agree at all and was now making sure everyone in the Schloss Ritter knew that.

"... Also, I didn't stumble on the hounfour out of dumb luck, okay? I'm a cop, and I can get shit done," he was saying the moment Gabriel stepped in.

Von Glower nodded politely, though Gabriel could see the slightest hint of an amused smile curling the corners of his mouth. "I didn't doubt that for one moment," he said affably. His eyes flickered to Gabriel, who was standing behind Mosely, but turned them away the moment Gabriel brought a fingers to his lips and stepped forward in silence, until he was right behind the armchair where sat a completely unaware Mosely.

"You didn't? Oh. Oh, great. I mean, it doesn't hurt getting some appreciation. Especially when the guy whose sorry ass you saved doesn't bother to show any."

Von Glower smiled. "I'm rather sure Gabriel knows how much of a valuable friend you are. He simply, doesn't, how should I put it?, openly state it," he said. Gabriel inwardly rolled his eyes at the remark, but opted not to make a sound and instead reached forward so that his hands would hover only a couple of inches above Mosely's shoulders.

Completely unaware of his presence, Mosely scoffed a little. "Well, it wouldn't hurt if he did that once in a while. You know, just something like a 'thanks' without adding a comment about my hair or belly or- FUCKING CHRIST!" he trailed off with a scream when Gabriel made a noise that sounded a lot like a bark and slammed both hands on his shoulders. "KNIGHT! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

Gabriel clicked his tongue and dodged a half-hearted swipe. "I'm showing appreciation, Mostly."

"Go to hell."

"After you leave this room. The big bad wolf and I have a few things to talk about before tonight," Gabriel said, turning to glance at von Glower. The other man's amused expression melted into an extremely serious one, and he nodded.

"Of course," he said quietly.

Gabriel shrugged. "Heard that, Mose? Take your leave."

Mosely made a face. "Asshole," ha muttered, but he did get up the armchair to walk outside, likely up to give Gerde a better version of what his role had been in the voodoo murders case. Gabriel craned his neck to glance at his retreating back. "Close the door so that we don't have to hear your tales of heroics as well," he called out after him, and Mosely's mumbled reply – 'fuck you' – was covered by Gabriel's sigh as he sank in the armchair. Then the door closed, and it was only the two of them in the room.

For a few moments they were both silent, a sense of uneasiness in the air that had simply never been there before Gabriel realized the Black Wolf – von Glower – was responsible for more deaths that von Zell had ever been. Then again, Gabriel thought bitterly, it wasn't exactly the kind of matter you let slide easily: regretful has he may be now – unless he was pretending, but then he should have been given a fucking Oscar for some serious top notch acting – nothing could change the fact the man in front of him, the one he was trying to keep alive, the one he couldn't help but trust against all odds had, in fact, hunted hell knew how many people in his long life. And eaten their flesh.

And he couldn't even talk about it to anyone else, either: both because letting out word with anyone in Rittersberg would have meant signing von Glower's death sentence, and because, somehow, Gabriel simply felt it was not his secret to tell. So, at least for now, that detail was to stay between himself and von Glower. Then... he'd see.

In the end, it was von Glower to break the silence. "The moon will be full tonight, correct?" he asked quietly. It wasn't even a real question, but at least it allowed them to get that damn conversation started.

"Yeah. So, I know I told you they want to see you behave as a wolf too in order to be reassured, but I figured out I could as well let you know the details. You know the dungeon down in- wait. Right. You do," Gabriel corrected himself when it occurred to him von Glower had been locked in there, like his father before him. Only that their fate from there had differed... and Gabriel kinda hoped things stayed that way.

Unaware of his musing, von Glower nodded and waited for him to resume speaking.

"Okay, so, they want us to get in before sunset. Moon comes out, we turn into wolves, and then they open the door. I come out first, okay? They'll know it's me. Then you come out, sit down at a safe distance and _don't do anything_. They'll probably try to get closer and see if you react, but you stay still. If something itches don't even try to scratch it, because you'll have something like two dozen guns pointed at you. And they're just looking for a good excuse to shoot, in case you didn't already pick that up."

A bitter smile curled von Glower's lips. "I did. What will happen afterwards?"

Gabriel blinked. "What?"

"I suppose that, if I pass their test, they aren't planning on keeping us in the square all night. Are we expected to get back in the cell?"

To be honest, Gabriel hadn't even thought about it. He frowned. "Uh... no idea, really. Guess I'll have to talk to them about it. I don't really like the idea of having to spend the night in a cell, so I'll tell them we'll be heading back to Schloss Ritter when they're satisfied."

Von Glower raised an eyebrow. "And where, if I may ask, would you like to go instead?"

Gabriel blinked. "How did you guess I'm not up to stay in the castle for real?"

"Your choice of words, perhaps. You said you'd _tell_ them we'd be heading back, no that we will. But mostly, it is because I know well how strong the desire to run free is when in one's beastly hide. You must have felt it as well, back in the theatre. Have you not?"

A small snort. "Oh, you _bet_. That damn maze in the basement was driving me crazy. All that running around and closing doors not to let you get out."

"Then someone _was_ closing doors. I wondered about that," von Glower commented, now sounding slightly amused.

Gabriel grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, well, I was in the basement of a theatre filled with people with this huge black beast. Wasn't taking any chances."

Von Glower nodded and leaned back. "I understand. You have not yet answered my question," he reminded him.

"Oh. Yeah, right. Well, I was thinking we could stay in the woods for the night, and come back through the secret passage on the hillside in the morning. No one is out in the woods in this area, not at night, so it will be safe. As it should be even if there _were_ people," he added pointedly.

Von Glower's amused expression immediately vanished. Her lowered his eyes. "There will be no such trouble," he said quietly.

And just like that, the uneasiness was back. Gabriel sighed.

"Okay. Great. I'll... go see if Gracie's back, if we have this Wilhelm's blood... that sort of stuff," he finally muttered, getting up from the armchair and turning to leave.

"Gabriel."

It wasn't the fact von Glower had called out as the uncharacteristic uncertainty in his voice that made Gabriel stop in his tracks and glance back at him. "What is it?"

Von Glower closed his mouth and looked away. "Nothing," he finally murmured.

That would have been a good moment to leave and get himself busy elsewhere, Gabriel knew that. But still, he had the feeling that if he did not address to the matter now he'd have to do it later... and it likely wouldn't get any easier. He drew in a deep breath and turned to squarely face von Glower.

"Listen, I know you're sorry. I _know_. It's just... not something one can push aside so easily, you know. Not after... after the lair in the woods."

Von Glower's eyes didn't kleave the floor. "Of course. I understand," he said quietly. "How much is remorse worth if what I have taken is something I cannot give back? When I tried to speak to Toni Huber's parents, to her mother, I..." he paused, then drew in a deep breath. "Never mind. I suppose I simply-"

"Can't go back in time and don't know what to do. Yeah. I know."

While Gabriel had tried to keep his voice neutral some bitterness had to make it through, for von Glower seemed to understand.

"Malia?" he asked quietly.

A nod. "Yes. I tried to pull her up. I tried. But then she let go, and with the blood all over my hand her arm was too slippery and-" he trailed off and bit his lower lip. "Malia. And Wolfgang. If only... yeah, if only. Guess Gunter had to think like that, too."

"Who?"

"My ancestor, the one who lost the amulet to Tetelo. He killed himself, I think I mentioned that in the book, but can't recall what name I picked for him. Guess he had the same problem, uh?" he gave a forced smile. "He had fucked up big time, and he didn't know how to fix things, and... yeah."

Von Glower gave a weak smile. "I'm glad you didn't do the same."

A moment of silence, then Gabriel chuckled. "Well, don't think I did anything unfixable. Yet. And I'm glad you didn't get yourself killed by Huber, either. And... yeah, well, I'm glad you didn't die back in the theatre."

"But the latter would have solved your-"

"I'm glad you didn't," Gabriel cut him off, a sharp edge to his voice. "Period."

Von Glower stared back at him, taken aback, then smiled – his first true smile in a while. "Thank you."

Gabriel smiled back and said nothing.

* * *

After avoiding Mosely – she was glad he was there to bring some normalcy to her world again, but she'd rather spare herself his ramblings on how he had saved the day back in New Orleans – and deciding to wait for Gabriel and von Glower's talk to be over before informing them they could pick up Wilhelm's blood from the dispensary any time that afternoon, Grace found herself inside what had become the most familiar place in that castle: the library.

Even now that she had no research left to do, she quite liked the atmosphere in that place. Considering the unlikely situation she was now into and the unlikely people currently under the same roof, it felt like some sort of sanctuary. It wasn't really different from how working on Gabriel's book store had been like, in a way... Gabriel's annoying presence aside, at least in that moment.

Still, looking at the books now, she felt no desire to pick one up. She was usually very interested and someday she'd likely busy herself reading all that could be read in there... but at the moment she had had more than enough of supernatural, and nothing in there would give her the one information she was desperate to have – namely, how to undo the curse on Gabriel without having to kill Friedrich.

_Oh, so it's Friedrich now? Not von Glower? That escalated quickly, Gracie._

Grace shook her head to get rid of the thought – but it was true, a part of her mind pointed out, that only days earlier she would have never thought of him with his first name – and her gaze fell on the phone. It suddenly occurred to her that there was someone else she was currently on a first name basis with, and whom she had promised to call soon to meet in Munich.

Georg.

For a moment Grace almost reached for the phone, but she restrained herself. She liked him, liked his company and how he could take her mind off supernatural crap and make her laugh over something as silly as composing music while drunk, but that really was not the right moment to get distracted. How could she call him and suggest to meet if she didn't even know what would happen that night, if the test would go as it should?

While she was reasonably sure it would go well – Gabriel had proved himself to be able to keep control even in his beastly form and she believed Fri- von Glower when he said he would do the same – she couldn't be completely certain that none of the villagers would lose it and shoot either of them. And if that happened... hell, she couldn't even begin to imagine what she _could_ do should things go wrong. She wouldn't be up to go out and have a beer with anyone, then. That was for sure.

Finally, she turned away from the phone. She would call him, she decided, but first she had to wait for the test to be over with. Then... then she'd see.

After all, with a couple of weeks left before the right night for the ritual to take place, she had to keep herself busy _somehow_.

* * *

In the end, they didn't get inside the cell at the same time: von Glower was brought in the later afternoon, a few hours before Gabriel.

"So that he can avoid meeting the villagers in his human form. I think it's the best course of action," Grace had explained when she had suggested it. "You can bet everyone and their cat will the there to watch you getting in at sunset and then wait for you to Change and come out, and... I think Friedrich has had enough of the villagers for a while. Or at least I assume so," she had added, turning to glance at von Glower.

Von Glower had smiled somewhat sadly. "You're correct. Righteous as their hatred for me is, I'd be lying if I said my most recent meeting with them did not leave me deeply unsettled," he said, turning to glance at Gabriel for just a moment as he spoke.

Of course, Gabriel was the only one to know just how deeply it had upset him and why, but he was not up to reveal it to anyone – not unless von Glower wanted him to. "Let's go for it, then. Want to bring a book or something with you before I join in?" he had asked, and von Glower had given a low laugh as a response.

Gabriel had needed the rest of the day to convince a rather reluctant Habermas and a very suspicious Werner Huber that he and von Glower were _not_ going to get back in the cell for the rest of the night – "We're going back in Rittersberg, period. Why the hell should I stay in a cell while I can stay home? And von Glower is going to be with me all the time. And he wouldn't even be alive by then if you deem him as dangerous, right?" – but in the end they had relented, under condition they would get back into the castle under their very eyes. Taking a mental note to tell Mosely to leave the secret passage open so that he and von Glower could get back out through it, Gabriel had agreed.

By the time he had everything settled, it was time for him to join von Glower in the cell in Rittersberg's square. As Grace had predicted, pretty much the whole village was there. Children aside, but then again there weren't many of those to begin with. And, of course, Gabriel could spot plenty of weapons.

"I hope you're very, very careful with how you move, dear," Mrs. Smith whispered to him, warily eyeing the guns several men were loading.

Gabriel gave her what he hoped would pass as an optimistic smile. "Sure. We've got this under control. Kinda," he said. He turned to give Grace and Mosely a quick nod – they both looked pale, and Gabriel was willing to bet good old Mose had his own gun under the jacket even though it likely wouldn't help if things got ugly – and finally walked up to the the cell's door.

Habermas took out the key, turned it into the lock and opened the door just enough for Gabriel to slide in – only to close it as soon as he was in, as though he feared von Glower would try to skeak right out. Gabriel whistled and walked down the few stairs that led down into the cell. "Well, the guys up there sure are worked up."

Von Glower, who was resting on his back on the cot with his hands folded under his head, chuckled. "That's not surprising," he said, gaze not leaving the ceiling.

"Yeah, well..." Gabriel swallowed his nervousness and leaned against the wall. "Don't worry. It will be fine."

"I wouldn't say I'm worried. I suppose you could say I'm ready for whatever comes next," he said, his gaze moving from the ceiling to the opposite wall, then, "I should have died in this same cell several days ago."

"Not since I got a say in it," Gabriel countered.

Von Glower smiled and finally sat up to look back at him. "And I'm grateful you decided otherwise. Even though it would be the quickest solution, even after knowing what I did. It means more than words can tell, Gabriel. Whatever happens when I step out of here... I need you to know it."

For a few moments Gabriel could only stare back at him, taken aback, then he smiled back and reached to rub the back of his neck a little uneasily. "Well, you're welcome and all, but quit speaking like you're gonna die or something. That's not happening. Stick to the plan, and everything will be okay. Got it?"

A chuckle. "Yes," von Glower said before gazing out of the small window. Gabriel followed his gaze to see the feet of a bunch of people outside in wait. He bit his lower lip, trying to ignore a sudden stab of nervousness, and was taken aback when von Glower spoke again.

"I suppose it's about time we undress."

"Wha...?" Gabriel stammered, turning to look at him with wide eyes, and he found himself unable to move when he realized he had heard well, at least judging from the fact von Glower was actually undressing. "Wait, _what_?"

Von Glower's hand stopped unbuttoning his shirt, and he looked back at him in mild confusion. "The sun has set, and the moon will come out soon. If we Change with our clothes on, we may end up tangled in them," he said plainly.

Suddenly reminded of how von Glower had done the same when he had Changed in front of Elsa, Gabriel immediately looked down, fervently hoping his blush wouldn't show. His fair complexion seriously sucked in that kind of situation; good thing he didn't blush often – only when he got himself into some really, really awkward shit. Like he had just one.

"... Oh. Oh, right. _That_ ," he muttered, immediately busying himself with taking off his own clothes.

It took very little for him to kick off his shoes and get off his shirt and jeans, and a lot more to bring himself to take off his underwear as well. Something Friedrich apparently had no problem at all doing, he noticed when he shot him a quick glance. He immediately looked down again and muttered a curse under his breath, a little annoyed at himself because really, how was that any different then just undressing in a gym's dressing room to take a shower?

Von Glower's chuckle reminded him a few moments too late how fucking good a werewolf's hearing was. "I will not turn to look, I promise," he said quietly. "Not until the Change happens."

There was no doubt in Gabriel's mind that he was being honest, so he breathed a little more easily. A little. He cleared his throat. "Thanks," he said, finally taking off his underwear and leaning against a wall with his gaze fixed on the floor, arms folded over his chest somewhat defensively.

"You're quite welcome."

A few minutes of silent followed. Gabriel snuck a glance in von Glower's direction, just enough to be reassured of the fact he _really_ was keeping his eyes fixed elsewhere – namely, on the opposite wall – but then he immediately had to turn away and do this best to think of something absolutely disgusting. Like, say, von Aigner bathing. Or... or Klingmann in a thong. Damn, now that was something that burned his brain. Maybe he should think of someone else to distract himself until-

A sudden, sharp pain in his head snapped him from his thoughts, immediately followed by a sudden clenching of his guts, as though an invisible hand had grabbed them and _squeezed_. Gabriel let out a groan, his legs suddenly weak, and collapsed on the ground. He suddenly felt hot, way too hot for someone naked on the cold floor of an underground cell, and it got worse, the pain – one he had felt already, the one that heralded the Change – spreading everywhere in his body, as though coming from the very marrow of his bones. His stomach clenched again, and he curled in a ball with another groan. Somewhere on his left there was the thud of a body falling on the floor and a pained hiss, then the pain overtook him and he heard nothing more, nothing but his own scream when _things_ beneath his skin – bones and muscle and sinew – began shifting and changing shape and direction and oh God it hurt, it hurt _so fucking much_.

_Pain pain pain so much pain this is no good no good make it stop stop stop stop!_

But the pain did not stop, not right away: it just dulled little by little until it was bearable, until Gabriel's mind registered that he was not dead, but lying on a cold floor, with a gentle breeze coming from above, ruffling his fur. Then there was a movement beside him and something pressed against his muzzle. There were some snuffling noises, a cold wet nose pressing against his own, and a whine.

Gabriel – the thing that had been Gabriel and that in a way _was_ Gabriel, but not entirely – opened his eyes to look up, ears perking up. There it was a huge black beast–

_Friedrich von Glower, Rudolf von Ralick, Louis, the Black Wolf_

– looking down at him. It – _he_ – seemed relieved to see him opening his eyes, and gently nipped at Gabriel's flanks to get him up. A growl left Gabriel's throat, but he complied and pulled himself up on four legs. The pain was gone now, entirely gone, and the walls around them were oppressing, bearing down on him, and he wanted out – he wanted to go outside and howl at the moon's call, wanted to run through the woods and hunt and drink and be _alive_.

But first, there was another matter to take care of.

With one last glance and a low huffing grunt at his black companion, the gray wolf climbed up the stairs and began scratching at the heavy, wooden door.

* * *

If Gabriel's screams during the Change had caused the crowd outside to go still and silent, the scratching noise made a chill run up everyone's spine. One of the men, someone Grace had never seen before, crouched to look down through the window. He looked dreadfully pale when he straightened himself and stepped back.

"Der schwarze Wolf ist immer noch dort unten," he said, his voice shaking so much that Grace couldn't catch more than a couple of words. It was Werner Huber to help her out.

"He says the Black Wolf is still downstairs, in the cell," he said gruffly.

Grace breathed a little more easily. "Then it's Gabriel scratching the door. Just as he said he would. All's fine. Let me go and open the door," she added with a commanding tone, holding out her hand to Habermas. The man seemed to hesitate for a moment. "What is it? Would you rather open the door yourself?" Grace asked impatiently, and apparently that was enough to win the argument before it even started: in a matter of seconds, the key was in her hands.

Good.

"Are you sure about this, Grace?" Mosely asked. "I could open the door."

Grace chuckled. "Afraid Gabe will tear out my throat?" she asked, and didn't really bother to wait for an answer: she walked up to the door, pushed the key in the lock, and turned it.

The door opened with a long, drawn-out groan. Grace stepped back, and a moment later a large gray wolf was walking outside, taking a moment to stretch its limbs before looking back at her first, and then at the crowd. It was larger than any normal wolf, and more than enough to make almost everyone take a step back; and yet Grace knew that the black wolf stood even taller, even larger and probably even stronger.

"Is that Herr Knight?" a voice asked, and Grace nodded.

"Yes, it's him," she confirmed.

"Gabriel? Holy shit. Holy _shit_ ," Mosely muttered what was apparently the only thing he could say when facing a werewolf. Gabriel heard him and turned to glance at him, and gave a snort that seemed somewhat derisive – and the way the thing had bared its deadly fangs made her think of a smirk – before walking up to the centre of the circle formed by the villagers. He sat there, taking a few moments to look around, then turned his huge shaggy head back to the cell's door and let out brief, howling sound.

That was the call.

Grace held her breath, as did everyone else in the square; several guns were pointed at the door. And then the door, which had been left ajar, was pushed from the inside and opened completely – and there stood the Black Wolf.

It was just as huge as Grace remembered him: maybe four foot tall in total, with long legs, muscular torso and deadly-looking fangs. He was so black he made her think more of a shadow than of a living creature, but bright amber eyes were a strong reminder he was very, very much real.

For a few moments, no one moved nor spoke: they all seemed unable to do either. Werner Huber was the first one to speak, his gun still pointed at the beast. "Come closer," he ordered, fear barely even showing in his voice. His grip on the rifle was firm, his gaze unwavering.

The black beast lowered its head and did exactly as instructed: it walked to the middle of the circle, beside Gabriel, eyes never leaving the ground. Finally it sat beside the gray wolf and then – only then – looked up again. Several guns were still pointed at him, but it looked like none of those holding them was the kind of person to just lose control without a reason, and no one shot.

Grace breathed a little more easily; beside her, Mosely was still as tense as before. It wasn't hard telling why: had someone decided to shoot, Gabriel could be shot as well. And, annoying as Gabriel may be, Grace was rather certain Mosely would not be pleased should his lifetime friend die in front of him.

_But it won't happen. It cannot happen._

"Can you understand what I say?"

Werner Huber's booming voice caused Grace to recoil and look back at him. He had not moved, and was still staring at the black wolf with his rifle raised. The gray wolf, Gabriel, gave a huffing sound, but it wasn't to him the question was directed. The black beast looked up at the man for a few moments, then it moved its head in what looked everything like an attempt at nodding. The movement caused a few people to recoil, but none of those holding the weapons winced.

"Is your name – your _real_ name – Rudolf von Ralick, son to Baron Claus von Ralick of Alfing?" Huber asked again, clearly wanting to make sure that had _actually_ been a nod and not some random movement.

Once again, the black wolf seemed to nod.

Werner Huber's eyes narrowed. "Lie down, von Ralick," he ordered.

And the beast complied: while Gabriel stayed still, von Glower lay on the ground. He looked all the world like some huge, monstrous dog settling down for a nap. The man stared down at him for a few moments, then he lowered his rifle, passed it to the man next to him, and stepped forward.

Grace could see the gray wolf's ears perking up in surprise, but the black one did not move. "Herr Knight," Huber said gravely, "I must ask you to move."

The gray wolf seemed alarmed now, and tensed – only to wince and look down when his black companion turned to nip at his flank. The two wolves stared at each other for a few moments, neither of them making a sound, then, slowly, Gabriel began to back off until he was back next to Grace. He still was tense, though, and did not take his eyes off Werner Huber and the black wolf – nor did anyone else, for the matter.

When Huber stepped forward, the silence was so absolute they could hear each of his steps on the stone ground and little else aside from the faint sounds coming from the woods beneath Rittersberg. No one said anything, no one moved: not even the black wolf. Only Werner Huber did, one step at time until he was right in front of the beast, then – slowly – crouched. The man he had given his rifle to tightened his grip on it, clearly ready to shoot any moment.

But he didn't have to: the black wolf would not move. It stayed still, staring down at the ground, even when Huber crouched in front of him and, showing some hesitation for the first time, finally reached out for the creature's muzzle. His hand hovered in the air for a few moments, then finally rested on the black wolf's snout. If he had feared a reaction, there was none: the beast stared back, and stayed still.

Finally, Huber looked up past him and to Gabriel. "Where is the amulet?" he asked.

The gray wolf turned back to the cell's door and made a huffing sound.

"Can someone recover it now?"

Grace nodded. "Mose?"

Mosely looked back at her. "Are you sure...?"

"Yes. Everything is under control here. Go get the amulet."

Mosely nodded, walked past the gray wolf – who didn't miss the occasion to growl at him causing him to wince and walk faster – and went through the door.

"You're still an ass. You know that, Knight?" his voice reached them from inside the relative safety of the cell. The gray wolf seemed to grin for just one moment before all its attention turned back to Huber and the black wolf. Neither of them was moving now: they just stared at each other, Huber's hand still on the beast's muzzle. After a few, long moments Mosely walked out of the door with the amulet.

"Here it is."

Werner Huber nodded. "Good," he said, and held up his other hand without uttering another word. Mosely handed him the amulet, and the old man stared at him for several seconds before nodding, lifting it so that everyone could see it, and then pressing it onto the black wolf's forehead.

If any of them expected to see him react with pain, lose it or burst into flames, Grace mused, they had to be disappointed: nothing happened. Absolutely nothing. A few of the people in the square began murmuring, but they were speaking in German and so lowly Grace couldn't catch one single word. Then again, if the expression on Werner Huber's face – a curious mixture of relief and surprise and something akin to disappointment – was of any indication, though, things were going well.

Or so she hoped.

"As you can tell," she finally spoke up, "the amulet has no effect on him, as it has no effect on Gabriel. On the other hand, it _did_ hurt the werewolf who killed Toni and the others. But you already knew that – we _showed_ you that. So what's the reason of this little show?"

Huber stood, gestured for the others to put down their guns, and handed the amulet back to Mosely. The black wolf did not move, but Gabriel did, and a few moments later he was by his side. Grace's attention, however, was taken from them as soon as Huber replied to her question.

"We saw him wearing the amulet with no harm coming to him, yes. We also saw him perfectly in control of himself. But we saw all this on a _man_. How could we know that the beast's human form could not deceive the amulet? Even the killer, von Zell, was repelled by it while in his beastly hide. Have you ever exposed that one to the amulet while he was in his human form, Herr Knight?" he asked, turning back to the gray wolf.

A huffing nose, a shake of that great hairy head.

"See?" Werner said. "He did not. Not only we needed to know von Ralick-"

"He prefers to go by von Glower these days," Grace corrected him. While that was his real name, it had belonged to his father – a vile man, a murderer, and a rapist. She had a feeling von Glower would not want to take back the name he had been forced to leave behind when he was only a child.

Werner Huber nodded. "Von Glower it is, then. As I was saying, we needed not only to see he could control himself as a beast as well – we wanted to expose him to the amulet while in his beastly hide, when the amulet could not possibly be deceived. Do you see what I mean now?"

Grace nodded. "I think I do. But this could have been settled days ago, without having to wait for the full moon. He can Change at will."

The old man shook his head. "Ah, but what do we know of this curse? How could we know if there wasn't a difference, if when he _chose_ to Change he could also _choose_ to retain some humanity he could not retain otherwise? So we decided the should wait for a night like this," he added, pointing up at the full moon hanging above them, "so that he'd have _no choice_ but take his beastly. Then we would be certain that the amulet told the truth, that the beast we were facing was not a creature the pure light of the amulet would repel and mark as damned. And it seems that it was not the case," he finished, and nodded in Gabriel's direction. "I suppose I owe you my apologies, Herr Knight."

Gabriel snorted.

"Apology accepted, I guess," Mosely commented, but he didn't sound too sure of himself. "So, hey, how about also saying you're sorry to-"

"No," the other man cut him off, a sharp edge to his voice. "I owe him no apology. No one here does. He created the monster who killed my cousin's little girl, and even before then he was the ruin of the last true king Bavaria ever had. We had all reasons not to trust him, so no apologies will be given to him from any of us. But I suppose he never expected any," he added, glancing at the black wolf.

The huge beast, now standing once again, moved once again its head in what resembled a nod. Huber nodded back.

"Very well. Habermas and I would like to talk to you, von Glower, once you're back in your human skin. Tomorrow, perhaps, if you come down to the _gasthof_. After tonight, no harm will come to you by our hand. Isn't that so?" he asked aloud, and everyone present – some grudgingly, some looking more convinced – nodded. Grace was slightly amused to see that, even though Habermas was Rittersberg's Mayor, old Werner Huber was the one who truly held authority there.

"Oh, please, do come by!" Mrs. Smith's shrill voice caused most people to recoil, her presence having been mostly forgotten. Her husband smiled a little embarrassedly. "Emil and I didn't get a chance to properly talk to you just yet, and we'd love to ask you a few questions! Will you do us the favour after you're done speaking to good old Werner?" she asked, and Grace would have sworn the old man had rolled his eyes. It was hard to tell, in the dim light cast by the moon and the few street lamps in the square.

There was, however, no mistaking the black wolf's reaction: it moved its head in what they had by now learned to associate with a nod. Grace couldn't help but think it looked somewhat like a curtly bow.

"Very well. I suppose it is time for the two of you to retire to Schloss Ritter, then," Habermas finally spoke. And that they did – but, to Grace's surprise, they didn't insist on following them to make sure they truly did return to the castle as they had said they would.

Grace chose to take it as a good sign: it was an unexpected sign of trust. She just hoped they wouldn't find out Gabriel was about to spend the night in the woods with von Glower against everyone's advice. The truce they had reached with the villagers seemed less shaky then before, but one misstep could still make it collapse like a castle of cards hit by a blow of wind.

* * *

_Moon the moon is calling answer to it answer answer answer_

The gray wolf gave a low whine in the back of its throat, doing its best to fight the urge to do just that, throw back its head and howl. It couldn't be done, it couldn't. The humans didn't know. Thought it was home. They couldn't know it was free to roam the woods. Not yet.

The whine was answered with a low, gruff sound. The gray one lifted its head to see its black companion only a few feet away, snuffling around some dried-up bush. There was a smell there, one the gray one could recognize out of ancestral instinct – a fox – and the urge to follow the trail to find it, to find food, almost clouded its mind.

Almost. Because the human part of it, the one calling itself _Gabriel Knight_ , was less interested into the trail than in noticing that the black wolf's footing on a small heap of rocks was precarious as best, and that a push would likely send it sprawling on the forest ground. Just one push.

The gray one curled up its lips to uncover deadly fangs in a parody of a smirk, and moved.

The black wolf let out a surprised noise when the other wolf head-butted its side, causing it to lose its balance and fall on the ground. It tried to raise, but the gray one was on him in ah heartbeat, paws upon the black one's chest to keep it pinned down. Its fangs were still uncovered into that odd, almost human grin as it leaned forward to snort in the other's face – only to pull back with a surprised yelp at the hot wet tongue that lolled across its nose.

A human thought – _what the fuck?_ \- made it through the gray one's mind for a moment, but the next instant the black one took advantage of that to get its companion off him, head-butted it in return and then leapt backwards. It stared at the gray one while it steadied itself on its paws, then it let out a gruff noise, turned and ran through the dark, dark woods only illuminated by the moonlight.

The gray one stood there in confusion for a few moments, then the realization sank in and it let out a low, feral growl before giving chase to its black companion – any thought that may have ever plagued its human mind miles and miles away from its beastly one, as inconsistent as the cold still air in the woods.


	16. Surrender

It was the sun to awaken Gabriel from his slumber – sunlight directly on his face. Nightmares aside, that was the worst way of waking up, he mused. Well, at least it was something resembling proper musing: sleep had not yet let go of his mind, and he could only make very simple thoughts, such as 'who left the shutters open' and 'where the hell is my pillow'.

Then, slowly, he began regaining some bearing of his surroundings; enough to wonder why was the air in the room so cold, why was there wind, if he left the window open, why did his mattress feel a lot like grass and, most of all – why was he resting with his back against something that felt very, very much like bare skin?

… _Wait._

The full moon.

The Change.

The night in the woods with the Black Wolf.

Their return to the hillside behind Schloss Ritter, near the secret passage, not too long before dawn.

The Black Wolf settling down to rest and Gabriel following suit, resting close to keep warmth.

And now his mind was once again fully human, meaning that his body... and von Glower's... and the skin pressing against his own...

_Oh. Oh shit._

Gabriel's eyes snapped open, and he tried to sit upright. Tried to, because his first attempt failed due to a warm weight across his midsection.

Von Glower's arm.

Great, Gabriel thought, just great. He was naked, von Glower was naked, they had slept attached to each other – Gabriel took a mental note to never against fall asleep like that as wolves – and Gabriel couldn't manage to get away without waking him up and having to go through a fucking awkward moment. Awesome. Okay, he was sure they had done nothing more than sleeping, but that wasn't the kind of situation he would have wanted to find himself into. Not with von Glower, damn it, not with the one guy who was coming pretty damn close to making him wonder if he _really_ was abso-fucking-lutely, one-hundred percent straight.

Oh well, he thought, he couldn't just keep lying down there until von Glower woke up. Better take the risk, Gabriel told himself. He was about to try sitting up again, but froze when he felt von Glower shifting beside him, letting out a yawn.

_Oh, come on._

Gabriel shut his eyes and pretended to be still sleeping when he heard von Glower sitting up, letting out another noise – was he stretching? Yeah, likely. Weird mental image, a werewolf stretching his back after a night in the woods. Gabriel tried not to make a sound and kept his eyes shut, trying to ignore an especially annoying blade of grass that kept tickling his nose and hoping that if he just pretended to be asleep, he could avoid having to-

"Good morning, Gabriel."

… Oh, what the hell. Served him right for thinking he could pull off the Sleeping Beauty act with a damn werewolf who could likely hear his _heartbeat_ just fine. Gabriel held back a sigh and sat up as well.

"Hey," he said, making sure to avoid von Glower's gaze. "We didn't slaughter anything, did we?"

A chuckle. "You tried to catch a hare."

The faint memory of following a trail and then running after a small animal made it back to Gabriel's mind. "Oh. Oh, right. Did I catch it?"

"Almost."

"Almost?"

"You smacked your head against an especially low branch."

"Ah."

Von Glower let out another chuckle. "You got very close, however. I'm certain you would have caught it hadn't it been for that accident."

"Oh. Oh, yeah. Sure," Gabriel mumbled, but his mind wasn't really into it: all he could think of was the fact they were naked on the damn hillside. He was tempted to get up and walk to the secret passage to get into the castle and put on some damn clothes, but at the same time getting up would have meant exposing himself even more and... yeah, he didn't really want to because... well...

"Gabriel?" Von Glower's voice sounded concerned now, and Gabriel turned to glance at him. He was sitting right next to him and appeared to be perfectly at ease. Not that it was a surprise – nakedness was no issue to him, that much had been clear for a while – but the contrast suddenly annoyed Gabriel: why the hell was he acting like a stupid kid around his crush instead?

… Thinking again, that was a stupid question. He knew the answer, had known it for a while, and he was still trying and failing to delude himself. "I'm fine," Gabriel heard himself saying, pretending to be extremely interested in the morning dew on a blade of grass. "Just starting to feel kinda cold, you know. No fur and all."

"I see," von Glower said, but he didn't seem convinced.

Gabriel raked his brain to think of some other good excuse, but all he could think at the moment was 'oh, fuck this'. He snorted. "Oh, what the hell. You should know real well what's wrong. _You're_ wrong, okay?" he finally snapped, exasperation plain in his voice.

Now von Glower looked just confused. "Gabriel, what do you-"

"I mean that I had certainties, alright? Before this whole Schattenjäger mess. And after the first case hey, I had almost none. My life was turned inside out and upside down and then backwards and sideways and twisted into a fucking _pretzel_ , but I still got to cling to the fact I was supposed to fight darkness and whatnot. Not my lifestyle of choice but hey, I could have gotten used to it. And then you waltz in and make everything so goddamn complicated. I should kill you and I can't, I should hate you and I can't, and as a bonus it turns out that I- first Malia, and now... of _all people_ I could fall for, this is the _second goddamn time_!"

Gabriel's words faded into silence, one that was not broken for several moments, the only sound being that of Gabriel's own fast breathing. He never took his eyes off von Glower's face, but the other man's expression was unreadable; his eyes seemed to be staring right through him, but he still let no emotion show. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm and controlled as ever.

"My apologies," he said. "It was not my intention to add to your problems."

Suddenly feeling like the worst asshole in the world, Gabriel dropped his shoulders. "No, I... look, sorry about that. Didn't mean to blow up. It's not your fault, I... yeah. Not your fault," he muttered, looking away.

Von Glower nodded. "It is alright. I will leave you alone," he added, and moved as though to stand up – and all of a sudden Gabriel didn't want him to, it wouldn't solve anything, it wouldn't be _right_. His hand shot out to grab von Glower's wrist and held tight.

"No."

Von Glower stilled and looked back at him, surprise plain one his face. "Gabriel?"

Gabriel sighed. "Look, just... just stay, okay?"

There was a moment of uncertainty, then von Glower settled back down beside him. Gabriel did not let go of his wrist. "You know," he spoke, "this whole 'live for the moment' thing you had going on wasn't bad for itself. I liked living like that, too. Too bad it doesn't go too well with this shadow-hunting mission thing. But I kinda miss living like that, and sometimes... just sometimes, guess it wouldn't hurt being that way again. At least for a while. So I don't go insane."

He hadn't looked up at any point while speaking, his gaze fixed on his own hand around von Glower's wrist. Then von Glower's other hand was cupping his chin and tilting his face up, and Gabriel found himself staring straight at him again. He wasn't sure what he had been expecting, but nothing would have prepared him to the expression on von Glower's face, one of wonder and desire and something else Gabriel was not sure he was ready to give a name to yet.

Gabriel had never realized until that moment, how much he had wished to be looked at like that; he hadn't been at the receiving end of _that_ look since Malia's death. Then von Glower opened his mouth to speak, and Gabriel could only think one thing.

_Oh no, you don't. I've had enough of words._

Von Glower let out a surprised noise when Gabriel covered his mouth with his own, but other than that he didn't seem to mind at all: the next instant he was wrapping his free arm – Gabriel still would not let go of his wrist – around his waist to pull him closer.

And it felt good, God, it felt so good, because the air was chilly but von Glower's skin was warm against his own. And now he was kissing back, and when his hand tangled in Gabriel's hair Gabriel couldn't even find it in himself to protest. Anything, he thought confusedly, he'd give him _anything_ if he only asked, if he only-

" _Christ!"_

The sudden exclamation – one that sure as hell hadn't come from either of them – caused them to break apart hastily. Gabriel had recognized the voice, and he knew who it was even before he turned to the secret passage's entrance to see a very pale, very shocked Mosely staring at them with eyes wide as saucers.

He grinned up at him. "Hey, Mose," he said, hoping against hope he wouldn't notice the blush that was creeping up his neck. And the fact he was naked. And that he just caught him kissing an equally naked man. Seriously, wasn't there any chance Mosely would suddenly turn out to suffer of short memory loss?

Mosely didn't reply: his eyes shifted from him to von Glower and then back to him, he opened and closed his mouth a few times and then, without making a noise, he turned to walk back into the secret passage. Well, Gabriel thought, it could have been worse. He could have screamed.

Still, maybe it would be best if he had a word with him. He quickly got on his feet and gave von Glower a somewhat apologetic look. "Uh... I'll just have a word with him, okay?"

Von Glower chuckled, clearly amused. "Do you think he'll be alright?"

"Yeah, well, he'll live. I think," was all Gabriel said before he hurried into the secret passage to talk to Mosely, fervently wishing he had the foresight of leaving some clothes for himself and von Glower tucked somewhere in the hidden corridor. He reached Mosely easily enough: the guy was walking all the world like a zombie. "Hey, Mose! Are you okay? Look, about what you saw-" Gabriel began, only to trail off when Mosely abruptly stopped walking and turned to face him.

"Knight, will you give me a fucking break? I know that you've taken it upon yourself to destroy _any_ certainty I ever had in life, but _this_? This took away half of them in one moment. I've spent my _life_ watching you running after any skirt you saw. And that guy," he pointed at the door that led outside, "is not wearing a skirt. And you know why he isn't? Because he's a guy. _Have you noticed that?_ "

There was an edge of hysteria to his voice that, in a completely different situation, Gabriel would have found amusing. Well, he still did to an extent. He tried to grin. "Actually, he's not wearing anything because we were both wolves until dawn and well, have you ever seen wolves with clothes on?"

Unsurprisingly enough, Mosely was not amused by his attempt at a joke. "Yeah, and that explains _everything_ , right?"

Gabriel's grin wavered when he realized that Mosely was very likely assuming that they had done more than just kissing. Well, to be honest, they probably would have done more than that if he hadn't... no, Gabriel told himself, wrong line of thought. Better focus on the situation at hand. "So what, Mose? Jealous?" he teased.

Mosely's face went from dreadfully pale to worryingly red in two seconds flat. " _No,_ " he snarled. "I just... are there _other_ certainties in my life you feel like taking down before breakfast?"

"Wow, was my sex life so important to you? I never knew, Mose."

"KNIGHT!"

Gabriel held up his hands. "Kidding, just kidding," he said quickly. "What did you come here for anyway?"

Mosely snorted. "Not to gawk, that's for sure," he muttered. "Just wanted to check out if you two were back yet. Grace asked me to, really. Had I known I would have told her to come here herself."

Gabriel's grin faded a little. Yeah, he thought, _Grace_. Telling her wasn't going to be fun: even though she seemed to be... okay with Friedrich now, Gabriel wasn't sure how she'd take the news. Maybe she wouldn't mind too much if he made it clear that he was still planning on getting rid of the curse – because he still did, if anything because the mere thought of immortality was anguishing as hell to him.

Gabriel did his best to ignore the thought of von Glower having to keep living on forever on his own and turned his attention back to Mosely. "Look, it would be great if you, y'know, kept quiet about this. For now."

Mosely tilted his head on one side. "You're not seriously hoping to hide _anything_ from Grace, are you?"

A sigh. "Not really, no," Gabriel admitted. "But I need to find the right moment, okay?"

"Yeah, that's for sure. Okay, tell you what – tell me where the key to the liquor cabinet is so that I can get rid of the damn mental image, and I'll be quiet as a grave."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay. Gerde's got it."

"Great. And, just to be sure, you're... still planning on getting back to normal, right?" Mosely asked. He wasn't even trying to hide his worry, and Gabriel knew that would be the first thought in Grace's mind as well. He nodded.

"Sure I am! I have the wolf part under control, but I don't wanna keep living forever. That can't be fun. Though it would be cool getting to see you losing all the hair you've left while mine never fall," Gabriel added with a smirk, reaching to run a hand through his hair. Mosely snorted.

"You're still an ass," he grumbled before turning to leave. "And, Knight?"

"Yeah?"

"Put some fucking pants on."

"Like it's anything you didn't see back in college!" Gabriel called after him, but he didn't really mind: at least he was sure Mosely would keep his mouth shut, and he... he had a little more time to figure things out. Not that there was much to figure out by now, but some time to decide how to break the news to Grace wouldn't hurt. However, he _was_ overestimating something.

Mosely's capability of keeping his tongue in check after having one too many drinks.

* * *

Grace wasn't exactly well-rested when she walked downstairs; nothing surprising, considering how little sleep she had gotten that night. Not that she was really worried – she knew both Gabriel and von Glower could control themselves in their wolf form – but she still would have slept more easily if they had stayed in Schloss Ritter. She supposed she was going to need time to get used to the fact Gabriel could sprout fur and a tail and go wandering in the forest all night long, however long that lasted.

Oddly enough the thought he was out with someone who had to live with the curse for centuries was reassuring rather than worrying, but she would be completely reassured only when Mosely or Gerde or whoever told her both Gabriel and von Glower were back and that they were _fine_.

"Are they back yet?" she asked as soon as she saw Gerde sitting at her desk as usual. Maybe a 'good morning' wouldn't have hurt, but that was the most pressing point at the moment. The rest could wait.

Gerde nodded. "Yes. Your friend, Mostly..."

Grace's lips curled into a smirk. "Mosely. Is Gabriel rubbing off you?"

The other woman blinked, looking honestly surprised. "Oh. I thought that was his name? Most- Mosely didn't correct me."

I bet he didn't, Grace thought, but decided to drop the matter at the moment. "So he says they're back?"

"Yes. They likely used the passage to Gabriel's bedroom to get dressed by now, so they should be here shortly. But..." she hesitated, frowning a little, and Grace's relief turned into slight apprehension.

"What? What is it?"

"Well, Most- Mosely walked in, asked for the key to the liquor cabinet and disappeared in the living room. Does he usually do that in the morning?"

Grace sighed. "Not that I know of, but I'll check out how he's doing," she said, and was about to walk in the living room when Gerde called out for her.

"Oh, before I forget – there is a letter for you. I got it earlier this morning at the post office."

"A letter?" Grace repeated, surprised. She couldn't think of anyone who'd want to contact her who's send her a letter rather than making a phone call. Well, except her mother, because she didn't give her that place's phone number. Please, she thought, tell me it's not my mother.

But her worries were put to rest the moment she reached for the envelope Gerde was handing her: that was definitely not her mother's handwriting. It was not one she could place – but the letter was definitely addressed to Grace Nakimura. Who...?

A noise of breaking glass and a slurred curse snapped Grace for her thoughts. She sighed inwardly, put the envelope in her pocket and went in the living room to see what was the matter with Mosely.

And the matter, apparently, was that he was more than just a little drunk, sprawled on an armchair with his head in his hands, a broken glass at his feet and an half-empty bottle on the small table by his side. He looked pretty pitiful, but she supposed that was no surprise considering that he had apparently tried to empty a whole bottle of liquor without even breakfast in his stomach

"Okay. What was the big idea, Mose?" Grace asked flatly, walking up to him. "Alcohol poisoning in the morning doesn't sound healthy. You could try jogging."

Mosely groaned, face still in his hands. "Gimme a break, Grace," he slurred. "Just wanna forget, okay?"

Grace raised an eyebrow. "Forget what? Hair loss? Early weight gain? The next check your ex wife will get out of you?"

Mosely scoffed. "Na-ah-w. That's nothing. I just-" he hiccuped and groaned again. "Look, I coulda lived a happy life, y'know."

"O... kay? And that makes sense _how_?" Grace asked, frowning in confusion. She just hoped he wasn't the kind who turned into a self-loathing mess after drinking.

Mosely made a weird noise, his head rolling back against the headrest. He stared up at the ceiling as though he could see something she couldn't on it. "Just saying... yeah, coulda lived a happy life without ever having to see that, okay? Knight, naked Knight, naked Knight making out. Just, _damn_. I really didn't need-" he suddenly trailed off, as though he had just had a sudden window of relative lucidity and just realized he had spoken too much. He looked up at her with the gaze of a deer caught in the headlights.

A _very_ intoxicated deer caught in the headlights.

For a few moments, Grace could only stare. "You're talking about Gabriel," she stated.

"Shouldn't have said that..."

"Making out? Is that what you said?"

"... _really_ shouldn't have said that..."

"Making out with _who?_ " Grace pressed on, but really, why was she even asking? It wasn't that much of a hard guess. And Mosely seemed to think the same, for he scoffed.

"With his grandma. What do you _think_ , Grace?"

Grace shut his eyes and groaned. "Oh, _God_ ," she muttered. That was pretty much what she had been afraid of since the moment she had read von Glower's letter to Gabriel, what she had feared would happen and... no, wait, it couldn't happen. It could not. At least, not the way von Glower had meant back then – because Gabriel had made it clear he was not going to join him, right? He still wanted to get rid of the curse. _Right?_

"Damn, I wasn't supposed to... look, if you could just pretend you-" Mosely began, but trailed off when he realized that Grace was not listening at all: she had already turned her back to him, actually, and in a few moments she was out and likely halfway up the stairs... on her way to Gabriel's room, no doubt. Hell, it looked like he couldn't count on her pretending he had said nothing after all.

Great, Mosely thought – that would teach him not to just open his mouth and speak, would it? Knight was definitely going to give him hell for that. Maybe drinking too much when he was supposed to keep his damn mouth shut was not such a bright idea, he mused. Okay, he would just put away the bottle now. In a minute.

After just one last swig.

* * *

For once, Gabriel Knight had to admire his own self-control.

Alright, the fact he had strayed in his room to dress after a quick shower instead of asking von Glower to stay or joining him in his room was actually mostly due to the fact von Glower wanted to go down in Rittersberg as he had promised to Werner Huber and the Smiths, but Gabriel was sure self-control had something to do with it, too. Somewhat. That, and the fact he felt like he needed a bit of time alone to clear his head. He had been in denial for a while now and he had _just_ snapped out of it, after all.

Von Glower probably thought the same: a part of Gabriel's mind was convinced that behind his insistence on going to meet Huber right away was the intention to give him just that – some time alone to _think_.

A nice development from his early plans of making him his companion, Gabriel thought with a hint of humor. Things sure had changed... a lot more than he had expected them to, really: even something seemingly unshakable as von Glower's faith in his philosophy had been shattered, and now-

A sudden knock on the door snapped Gabriel from his thoughts. "Who's that?" he called, putting his shirt on before reaching to brush back his still damp hair – but his hand stilled in mid-air when Grace's voice reached him, clear and sharp and oh man, that was the kind of voice she used when she was a storm was brewing.

"It's Grace. We've got to talk."

Okay, that wasn't good news. At all. Gabriel raked his brain trying to think of what he may have done wrong but really, it wasn't a hard guess at all: he could bet his hair – okay, no, maybe something else – that Mose had opened that damn mouth of his and babbled everything.

_Mose, I swear to God you'll pay for this!_

"Uh... does it have to be now?" Gabriel tried. "My head kinda hurts and-" he trailed off when the door was abruptly opened and Graced marched inside.

"Yes. It has to be _now_ ," she hissed, causing Gabriel to take a step back.

"Hey, hey! That's not... don't burst in like that, okay? I could have been naked!"

Grace snorted. "Yeah? Good thing you're not. Wouldn't have been much of a problem, though, since Gerde and I are apparently the only ones left who have not yet seen your pantless."

Gabriel sighed and dropped his shoulders. Okay, it looked like Mosely really had spoken. Go figure. Still, he tried to grin and change subject. "Well, really, it's only you. You see, there was this one night I got thirsty and went downstairs and I thought she had gone to sleep, but she hadn't and when I walked in the kitchen in my birth suit she was right-" he trailed off when Grace cleared her throat.

"Gabriel. _Not the point_. I'm not talking about Gerde here."

"Ah. Mose?"

"No."

"My gran?"

"Friedrich, Gabriel. I'm talking about _Friedrich_."

Gabriel tried once again to grin. "Hey, first name again? You two are getting close, Gracie. Is there something you're not telling me?"

Grace narrowed her eyes. "How odd. I was about to ask you the _very_ same thing. Now, how about dropping this stupid game and just telling me what the _hell_ you have in mind?"

With a sigh, Gabriel let the grin fade and sat on the edge on the bed. "Okay, okay, wolf's out of the bag. Fine. I'm an idiot and fell for it all over again. Like with Malia," he added, bitterness finally showing in his voice. "No fire pit this time, but it's more or less the same, you know? Because it cannot _be_. I don't _want_ to live on forever, but he _will._ I'll get rid of the curse somehow and grow old and die, and he _won't_. So there would be no way for it to work in the long run and I _know_ it, like I knew Malia was going to leave this fucking world anyway, but I couldn't let go of her arm then any more than I can just walk away from him _now_ , and-"

Gabriel's voice faded, and he said nothing more. He stared down at the floor and tried to ignore the sudden clenching in his chest, the horrible feeling that pervaded him every time he thought of Malia's last glance at him before she fell to her death, of the agony of watching her fall and being unable to stop her – only that now it was even worse, because that 'live for the moment' fuckery was good and all, but it didn't change the fact that whatever he shared with von Glower was not going to last, it was not _meant_ to. And if it _did_ , von Glower would have to watch him die someday like he had to watch Malia falling to her death... but it would be slower than that, with all the pain of watching him growing old and weak while he stayed young as he would remain forever. And that was so damn _fucked up_.

"Gabriel?"

Grace's voice reached him as though from a mile away, and Gabriel was surprised to notice any harshness or sarcasm was gone from it, only leaving worry and a sort of sadness behind. Gabriel looked up to see she was sitting on the edge of the bed right next to him. He gave her a weak smile.

"Look, sorry for the pity fest. I'm okay. Really."

Grace didn't seem convinced, but she didn't pursue the matter any further – something for which Gabriel was almost ridiculously grateful. "I didn't mean to nag, okay? I wanted to be sure you still... want to get rid of the curse. That's all."

He nodded. "Sure. I told you, Gracie, I don't wanna live forever. I don't know how Friedrich could stand it all this time, watching everyone he knew growing old and dying while he had to keep going. I couldn't do that."

"And he still doesn't want to try looking for a way to get rid of the curse as well?"

"No. He made that pretty clear. He'd sooner die; says he was _always_ both beast and man, never really _either_ , and that he cannot erase half of himself like that. Or something close."

"I see," Grace said quietly. There was a brief silence eventually broken by Gabriel.

"Penny for your thoughts, Gracie."

She bit her lower lip. "I was just thinking that, with your wolf forms under control... if lifting the curse is impossible, then maybe we could try to find a way to get rid of immortality and..." she paused and shook her head. "No, it wouldn't work. Your souls would be chained here afterward, and neither of you have living relatives whose blood we could use. Well, there's your grandmother, but..."

Gabriel gave a weak chuckle. "Yeah, not really an option. But thanks for trying to think of a solution, Gracie. I appreciate it. I... guess I'll just have to suck it up. Enjoy it while it lasts, you know. Make it worth it."

Grace smiled and reached to give him a small pat on the shoulder. " _Now_ I recognize you. Was that what you had in mind when Mosely had the misfortune of interrupting you?" she asked, and Gabriel laughed – something reasonably close to a _real_ laugh.

"Yeah, more or less. Poor Mose. Wish I had a camera to take a snap of his face. How is he doing anyway?"

"He's drunk."

"Not surprised. And to think I told him who had the keys to the liquor cabinet so that he'd keep quiet for a while about- hey, is that yours?" Gabriel asked when he noticed something on the mattress that had likely fallen from Grace's pocket – a white envelope.

Grace looked down and reached to pick it up. "Oh, this. Gerde says I got it earlier this morning, but I have no idea who sent it," she said, and finally went to open it. There was a single sheet of paper inside, and it was...

"A music sheet?" Gabriel asked, frowning. "What the hell? Is that some kind of code or... what now?" he asked when Grace's perplexed expression turned into an amused smile.

"It's from Georg," she said, her eyes briefly lingered on the notes – she could barely read them, let alone try imagining that the music would sound like – before she turned the sheet. Sure enough, there was something written on the back. There were also a lot of scribbles across it, as though Georg had gone back to change his wording quite a few times while writing it.

 _Grace,_  
I know this is probably going to sound stupid, but remember when I told you of my way of deciding whether or not beer is good? Drinking and then composing? I tried one just the other day, and this was the result. It's no Wagner by any means and it's quite the bizarre composition, but I rather like how it turned out. Meaning that the beer has to be good; I don't come up with such things when sober or after having mediocre beer. I'd like you to have it. It's not much compared to the chance of a lifetime you gave me with the Opera, but I hope you'll like it. I also hope I'll get a chance to let you try out the beer as well.  
Regards,  
Georg.

Grace found herself chuckling without even realizing it. The letter ended in an oddly formal note, but it was obvious from the numerous scrawls and edits that Georg had struggled for quite a while to come up with something he had eventually deemed good enough. The mental image of his awkward tries was somewhat endearing. He had probably bitten his lower lip quite a lot while doing so, as always when nervous: back when he was working on the Opera Grace had actually wondered, despite her _own_ nervousness over the outcome, how had he not winded up with a bleeding lip.

Gabriel's low whistle interrupted her musings. "Well, well. Sounds a damn lot like a date to me. And you didn't tell me? I'm wounded, Gracie, I really am. And I just told you what boy I fancy and what's my favorite nail polish. I thought we had a bond here," he said in mock hurt.

Grace rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the ribs, though not with as much strength as she could have used. "Idiot."

"What? That's called a _date_."

"It's a _music sheet_."

"Yep, that's it. He wrote you a song. Isn't that a big enough hint?"

"He didn't write it _for_ me. He wrote it, and thought I may like it."

"Yeah, that's _so_ different. And look, there's a love letter on the other side."

"It's a letter, _period_."

"Asking you out."

" _Gabriel."_

He threw up his hands. "What? It's the truth. Guy asked you out on a date. Shocking, I know, but looks like some people like exploring."

Grace blinked. "Exploring?"

"Yeah. Nothing like taking a tour through dusty ruins that haven't been touched by man in years."

"Was this about me or about your mind?"

Gabriel tried to think of a retort, but then he just chuckled. "It's like in New Orleans, isn't it? All over again."

Grace smiled. "Doesn't feel too bad. I miss the lazy days in the bookstore sometimes."

"Yep, same. I miss New Orleans, period. Tell you what – once the ritual is done, we're taking a vacation, okay? Back to New Orleans. Gotta see Gran again, too. It's her birthday next month. Are you coming?"

"Of course. Just don't let my mother know I'll be back in the States."

There was a brief silence, this time peaceful, no longer tense or filled with underlying sadness; some nostalgia, yes, but no sadness. Finally, Grace sighed and stood. He looked up. "Where are are you going?"

"Down in Rittersberg. There's an organ in the church, and I want to see if someone can try playing this. Since you say the song was _for_ me, I may as well listen to it."

"Uh-hu. So, are you gonna take up his offer? You know, for the date?" Gabriel asked, his voice dropping in a suggestive drawl on those last words. Grace smirked.

"Depends on how I like the song," was all she said before leaving, gently closing the door behind herself.

* * *

The _gasthof_ was not precisely filled with people – hardly a surprise in such a small town unknown by most outside it – but aside from Werner Huber and the Smiths there were a few more people talking. Von Glower could hear them from outside, and was not surprised to find they were talking about the previous night and, of course, of him.

For a moment the temptation of turning and walking back in Schloss Ritter before being seen was strong: while reassured in some measure, those people obviously were not entirely at ease with his presence. But then again, running away would solve nothing. Von Glower was about to reach for the door and walk in when someone called form behind him.

"Baron?"

Von Glower turned to see a rather old, bearded man a few steps from him. He seemed uneasy, but not hostile. "Herr Habermas, if I'm not mistaken," von Glower said with a curtly bow. "The Mayor, are you not?"

The man cleared his throat. "Yes, that's correct," he said, trying and failing to sound completely calm. "I was hoping you'd come today. As you probably can imagine, there are still many questions we have for you."

A nod. "And I'll answer to all I can, I promise you that much," von Glower said, then tilted his head to the door. "Shall we go in, then?"

"Of course. Have you tried the beer of the house?" Habermas asked, walking up to the door and making a valiant effort to sound pleasant. "It's a bit early, but perhaps after we have some breakfast?"

"I haven't had the pleasure yet, but I'll be glad to," was von Glower's reply, and they walked in. Their arrival did not pass unnoticed: any talk that had been going on between the few people inside and Werner Huber ceased instantly, everyone's gaze shifting to von Glower.

"Oh, there he is!" Mrs. Smith's shrill voice rose in the silence. Von Glower smiled and bowed his head.

"Good morning," he said.

Werner Huber nodded back at him. "So you did come," he stated, and then gestured for a large, empty table. "Do sit down. If you're to stay here, even for limited time, we may as well know you better."

Von Glower nodded and sat along with Habermas, taking no notice of the suspicious glances the other people inside gave him before leaving – leaving only himself, Habermas, Huber and the Smiths inside – and let his gaze wander through the place. He had never had a chance to get inside before, and he quite liked the place, whose interior was made entirely of wood. Pine, by the looks of it. But his attention was almost immediately by something else, a picture in a frame hanging on a wall. A picture of Ludwig II of Bavaria.

Something had to show on von Glower's face, for Habermas spoke quietly. "He was a great king, wasn't he? The last true King of Bavaria. His people loved him."

"As did I," von Glower murmured. "He was a great man."

"Oh, do tell us about him! Emil and I are _so_ very curious!" Mrs. Smith spoke up, sitting at their same table and causing both men to blink. "Aren't we, Emil?"

"Yes, dear," Mr. Smith said meekly.

"We all are, I reckon," Werner Huber said somewhat gruffly, placing a huge plate of coffee, hard boiled eggs and cold cuts in the middle of the table before sitting down himself. "I suppose you can start by talking about him, then. Is it true that his soul is now bound to this world because of you?" he asked bluntly.

Von Glower nodded. "He has been trapped for a long time, yes, and it was my responsibility entirely. But that will end soon, thankfully: on the next night of new moon we'll be able to give him peace."

"You mean the ritual, don't you?" Huber asked. "Herr Knight mentioned it. Will it truly work?"

"Oh, I'm sure it will! Have more faith in your Schattenjäger, Werner," Mrs. Smith chided him, then reached to put a hand on von Glower's forearm. "Say, is there any chance Emil and I can watch it?" she asked excitedly, and von Glower got the distinct feeling that denying her that was not an option at all.

In the end, he nodded. "I can't see why not," he said.

"Oh, thank you! This is so exciting!" she exclaimed. Werner Huber's expression, however, stayed perfectly serious; a stark contrast to her bubbly excitement. He took a sip of coffee before speaking.

"Do tell me," he said, eyes never leaving von Glower, "is it true that you'll also perform the ritual for the soul of the monster who slaughtered my cousin's little girl?"

Von Glower set his jaw. "The blame for what happened is mine and mine alone," he said quietly. "I Changed Garr von Zell hoping he could share with me my life, but my hope was misplaced. The mistake was mine. The Blood brought him to insanity; his mind was no longer what it used to be. It was no longer _him_. I can assure you that the man I knew, the man he was before the Change... he was no murderer."

"Knowing this will not bring little Toni back," Huber said dryly.

Habermas shot him an almost pleading glance. "Werner..." he tried, but Huber didn't pay any attention to him: he stared at von Glower, and him alone.

Von Glower nodded. "No, it will not. But neither will leaving a man's soul to pay for eternity someone else's foolish mistake. Let us free that soul, and let it find its way back into this world to live a life untainted by the curse – the life he'd have lived had it not been for me. If it is revenge you want, then you should know I am the one who should take the fall."

"Now, now," Habermas tried again. "We already talked this through and came to the agreement that-"

"I know what we agreed," Huber cut him off. He put the coffee back on the table. "So you are certain that the cursed soul will no longer be such after the ritual," he stated.

"Yes. Grace – Miss Nakimura – is. I trust her. The ritual removes the taint from the soul, allowing it to move on to the afterlife... or be born to new life if there are crimes that would not allow the passage right away."

"And the man would have to gain himself his afterlife in this new life."

"That's what Miss Nakimura says, yes."

Werner Huber nodded. "She is clever, that one," he conceded.

"That she is," von Glower agreed. There was a brief silence, during which all of them took a bite of something – be it an egg or a cold cut. In the end, it was Habermas to break it.

"I guess there is no point in delaying. What we truly want to know, Baron, is if there others like... yourself."

Von Glower took a sip of coffee. "Werewolves? I know none, to be quite honest, but I'd be very surprised to know I'm truly the only one," he said, taking note of the fact none of them took Gabriel into account at all. "There likely are other werewolves in the world; my father cannot have been the only man cruel enough to deserve the curse, and not the only of such men to sire a child. And at least someone likely Changed people as well. But I can grant you," he added, staring straight back at Habermas first and then at Huber, "that there is none of my making left. Garr von Zell... he was the last."

_And then there is Gabriel, but none of you seem to think of him as a werewolf. You all think that will change._

Huber nodded. "And can we be certain there will not be others?"

There was no hesitation in von Glower's voice when he replied. "Yes. Gabriel would kill me if I attempted."

"Would he?"

"Rather than letting other people go insane like Garr did, and more children die like Toni Huber? Yes, he would. Of that you can be certain: he made that very, very clear. But you can be just as certain," he added, "that I will give him no reason to. Never again will I take the risk of Changing someone."

Huber nodded approvingly. "That is good to know. And, since you brought your father up – it was you to write for the details of his trial and death in 1764, was it not? From Buenos Aires."

"I had a lawyer doing that for me, yes. I was very young when he died, and my mother refused to speak of him even after it became clear I was cursed as well. I wanted to know what had happened to him."

"I see. So you only know how it went?"

Von Glower frowned. "Is there anything else?"

Huber turned to Habermas. "Do show him," he all but ordered. Habermas nodded, and took something from his pocket – a very old, folded sheet of paper. He opened it carefully, and lay it on the table.

"These are notes of a Father Beidermann outlining the last confession of Baron Claus von Ralick, before his execution. I believe... yes, I believe you should read the end."

Von Glower's eyes scanned the piece of paper – the confession itself told him nothing he didn't know already – until he reached the very end. Mrs. Smith tried to look as well, but she clearly couldn't make any sense out of what was written on the sheet. "What does it say?" she asked, but von Glower didn't reply, and she didn't insist – the look on his face was clearly enough for her to know not to.

_He begs God's mercy for his wife and son, that they be spared both the stake and the curse._

"He begged for mercy for my mother and me," von Glower murmured, completely taken aback. That thought seemed at odds with the few, distant memories of Claus von Ralick: he had been powerful and arrogant, easy to anger and prone to cruelty – even if his violence never befell his son or wife. As a child von Glower had both admired and feared him, had desired his attention as much as he had dreaded it; in his eyes, his father had been something akin to the all-powerful and terrible God of the Old Testament. That his last thought, his last prayer had been for his son and wife... it didn't quite fit what he remembered of him.

Still, that was what the old sheet read, and von Glower had no reason to think it was untrue: why should the priest lie? In the end, he just nodded. "I did not know. I'm glad I do now. Thank you," he finally murmured.

Huber nodded soberly. "We simply thought you should know," was all he said before he began asking about Ludwig and the ritual again.


	17. The Ritual

Grace had thought Germans knew how to hold alcohol, especially beer. And so far she had kept believing so, for the people she had seen in Rittersberg had absolutely no problems drinking whatever amount of it like they were drinking water, with no visible effect than slightly flushed skin.

And then there was Georg. With him it wasn't only a matter of flushed skin and somewhat incoherent talk – that tended to happen a lot when they met, and it didn't take much to see all the signs of a serious crush there – but also of hilariously pink nose and ears. The ears especially.

"I'm glad you like the song. I was thinking of you when- I mean, no, not really. As in, yes. But I was thinking of our talk, and it sort of... Ich meine, ich beschloss, es zu versuchen and habe gedacht, du wirst es vielleicht mögen, also..." he paused and blinked when he realized that Grace had been staring at him. "What is it? Do I have something on my face?" he asked somewhat nervously, reaching up to rub his nose.

Grace chuckled. "No, nothing. It's just that you began speaking gibberish out of nowhere."

"Gibberish?"

"You switched to German mid-sentence."

"Ah," Georg said, his skin becoming, if possible, even pinker. "Sorry, I didn't notice. I just began talking, and... it's just easy to talk to-" he trailed off and cleared his throat. "Er. I probably drank too much, and I've been babbling all the time. I'm sorry."

"No, no, it's fine," Grace said quickly, and she meant it. It wasn't only because she found him amusing – and yes, somewhat cute – but also because it felt really good being around someone who's talk to her so freely about ordinary things. One tends to miss such things when most of their time is spent danging around issues that have at least something to do with supernatural forces, and usually with someone who wants to play the Manly Man and tries keeping said issues for himself. It was typical Gabriel behavior, part of what made him _Gabriel_ , and she couldn't hold it against him... but it could get so, so tiresome.

Georg blinked. "Really?"

"Yes. Actually, I think you should speak German more often around me. Well, possibly when sober," she added, glancing at his almost finished beer. "I'll probably end up spending a lot of time here, a few vacations back in the States aside, so I had better get learning."

"So you're going to stay?" Georg asked, and it wasn't at all hard to notice he liked the news.

"Yep. Gabriel has... a lot of things to do here, and since he's my employer it just may be useful being in the same continent as him. You have no idea how he can mess up when he's on his own. You _really_ have no idea," she added with a sigh.

"I think you mentioned something like that once. A trouble magnet, right?"

Grade nodded. "Oh, yes. Not his fault that trouble comes to him like a hoard of piranha on a chicken leg, but it wouldn't hurt if he didn't try to solve everything by himself and make an even bigger mess out of it."

Georg laughed. "I see. I suppose it's a good thing that you're there to help him out," he said, and didn't seem to notice how bitter Grace's smile was.

_If only it were that easy, Georg. If only I could always help him like I wish I could._

But then Georg changed subject entirely, and she was grateful for that: one of the main reasons why she had accepted to go out that evening – not the only reason, true, but still the main one – was allowing herself some distraction. With a definitive solution to Gabriel's condition still eluding them, killing von Glower no longer an option for either of them, Grace had decided to focus on the ritual for now: a short-term goal was better than nothing, and it would mean tying at least a few loose ends. If it succeeded, as she thought it _would_ , it would be enough of a result to give her more confidence over the possibility of finding a way to help Gabriel as well.

But until the night of the ritual she desperately needed some respite, an evening for herself to relax instead of dealing with both supernatural and very, very human issues that happened to mingle with supernatural. She needed a _break_... and it was exactly what she was going to take, she thought before just pushing the issue in the back of her mind to just enjoy the evening.

* * *

"You know, I'm not sure I'm ready for this."

Von Glower smiled faintly at Gabriel's comment. "You're not forced to stay," he said. "I think the ritual is simple enough not to require your presence."

"And leave you alone with your exes? You wish," Gabriel replied, causing von Glower to weakly smile. Truth be told, he was glad Gabriel was staying: he had done wrong to both souls they were about to set free, and a part of him feared what could happen during the ritual. Would he be able to see them? Would they speak to him? None of them could tell. They knew what to do to free the souls, nothing more.

Von Glower let his gaze wander around. They had decided to hold the ritual on the hillside behind Schloss Ritter, the part of it accessible through the secret passage, and the place certainly was crowded. Aside from himself, Gabriel, Grace and Mosely, both the Smiths had insisted to attend, as had Werner Huber on behalf of the people of Rittersberg. Gerde was near the entrance of the secret passage, and Elsa stood next to her.

She was silent, arms folded over her chest, but he could easily sense her nervousness. After a quick look at Grace – she was placing the silver bowls, sacks of blood and the jars containing both hearts on a flat rock – von Glower turned and walked up to her.

"You can go if so you wish," he said quietly. "You did all that was needed of you and more. You don't have to stay and see... whatever happens."

Elsa scoffed. "I was dragged in this by a dead asshole, so I'm staying until this is over and said dead asshole is out of my life," he said with a shrug. "Not going to faint, I promise."

Von Glower smiled. "I didn't think you would. I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

"He had better," was the dry reply, but she didn't meet his gaze. She seemed to be lost in thought, and he decided not to pry. He just nodded at her and walked back to Gabriel, who was looking down at his watch.

"It's almost time," he said quietly. Somewhere behind them Ms. Smith was happily chattering on how exciting that all was, but von Glower was not listening: he just nodded, turned to briefly meet Wener Huber's gaze – he was silent, his expression unreadable, and was looking right back at him – and then looked up at the sky. It was a clear night, stars bright, but there was only blackness where the moon should have been... exactly as Grace had said it should be.

_Please_ , he thought, not even knowing who or what was it he was praying. P _lease. Let this work._

Grace was done setting up everything, and took a step back. "Gabriel," she called out quietly.

Gabriel nodded her, drew in a deep breath and then, after a quick nod at von Glower and a murmured 'try not to faint, Mose,' he stepped forward to take her place. He had insisted on being the one to go through with the ritual, saying it was his responsibility, and no one had tried really hard to discuss that. No one but von Glower, but once his mind was set Gabriel simply wouldn't change it.

It's my duty, Gabriel told himself, trying to ignore the knot in his stomach.

_It's my duty, and I'll carry it out._

He moved quickly, trying not to think too much and just _act_. He opened the jar containing Ludwig's embalmed heart, put it into one of the silver bowls and then – making sure to check first, because it would really suck getting that far only to put the wrong person's blood in the bowl – he poured in Wilhelm's blood, fervently hoping he truly was close enough of a relative for it to _work_.

For one long, horrible moment nothing happened and Gabriel feared that it wouldn't work, that Ludwig's soul was beyond help. But then something in the bowl moved, and he found himself staring and the blood's level in the bowl quickly lowered, as though being literally _sucked_ inside the heart until there was no more blood and only the heart was left – a heart that was no longer embalmed, but looked like it had been ripped off a man's chest only moments before.

It looked everything like Wolfgang's heart had, was all Gabriel was capable of thinking one moment before the heart throbbed, as if beating. Once, twice, thrice – all while a fine silver mist rose from it.

"Holy shit. Holy shit, it's... beating?" Gabriel heard Mosely say behind him.

"Isn't anyone going to say anything about the mist?" Gabriel croaked, staring as the silver mist grew thicker, and part of him wasn't truly surprised when more than one voice asked him _what_ mist he was talking about. He turned to von Glower. "Can't you... not even you...?" he asked, but von Glower shook his head. He looked pale, his jaw set.

"I see nothing," he said quietly.

"I do," Grace spoke up, stepping forward. She looked pale, but her eyes were fixed on the mist above the heart that was now taking the shape of a man. "Ludwig," she said softly, and it was only then that Gabriel realized: it was Ludwig, it had to be him, and Grace could see him while others couldn't because it was her he had created a connection with. And Gabriel could see him because... Schattenjäger shit, he supposed. He did tend to see things most people couldn't, though so far it had mostly happened through dreams and not while he was wide awake.

And now Ludwig II of Bavaria stood in front of him, inconsistent as mist but undeniably _there_ , looking everything like he had the day of his death. He stared straight at him for a long moment, causing Gabriel's breath to catch in his throat, and gave him a solemn nod before turning to Grace and smiling faintly. His lips moved; Gabriel could hear him speaking, and yet he could not. It wasn't a voice as much as a thought coming from the back of his own mind, along with a sense of deep gratitude that didn't belong to him.

_Thank you._

Grace had to feel it, too, for she smiled a melancholic sort of smile and nodded back. It was then that Ludwig's eyes left them and turned to the small crowd behind them... stopping on the man who had loved and yet condemned him so long ago.

Von Glower.

No expression showed on the spirit's face as he walked – yeah, he was walking alright, even though his feet didn't touch the ground – past them and right up to von Glower, stopping just in front of him. He stared at him, and then moved no more: he just stared. And even though von Glower still couldn't see him, Gabriel could tell he was aware of a presence. He stood rigidly, gaze fixed ahead as though he was trying to truly see what he knew was there somewhere, eyes wide.

"Friedrich, he's here," Gabriel found himself saying quietly. "Right in front of you. It's him."

Von Glower's breath hitched, and his eyes kept staring straight ahead. No one else spoke or moved: they only watched. Slowly, very slowly, von Glower lifted his hand and held it out; it stopped a scant inche from where Ludwig stood, but didn't quite reach him. "Ludwig," von Glower rasped. His voice was weak, and so filled with pain and longing that it made something in Gabriel's chest hurt.

For a moment Ludwig did not move, nor he spoke: he stayed still and stared. Then his features finally softened into a sorrowful expression, and his own ghostly hand rose to meet von Glower's. It passed right through it, but von Glower stiffened, clearly sensing the touch that wasn't. He drew in a shuddering breath, and Gabriel could see his eyes glistening with unshed tears at the little light the flashlights provided. His hand shook, but he did not retreat it.

"Verzeih mir," he whispered, and for once Gabriel didn't need anyone to translate for him.

_Forgive me._

Ludwig smiled at him, a smile von Glower could not see; he then closed his eyes, and the next moment he was fading – his figure turning back into shapeless silver mist, and in the blink of an eye even that was gone. And von Glower was alone again, his hand still lifted, his gaze unfocused.

"Friedrich," Gabriel called out softly. Von Glower blinked upon being called, a motion that caused his tears to finally fall. He gazed back at Gabriel without even acknowledging them.

"Is he...?" he managed. All the others were looking at him, but again, no one spoke.

Gabriel smiled. "He left. He's at peace," he said, then, "He smiled before going. At you."

For a few moments it looked as though von Glower hadn't even understood his words. He glanced at Grace, who nodded. "It's how he said," she told him, and von Glower's mouth quirked into something that was both a smile and something else. His eyes were still veiled with tears.

"Thank you," he said softly.

Gabriel grinned. "Don't thank me yet. There's still one ex to go through," he said, causing von Glower's smile to turn into an actual chuckle, if a weak one. Gabriel turned to Elsa. "If Grace saw Ludwig, it's likely you'll see von Zell. Want to, uh... come closer?"

Elsa nodded and stepped forward. Gabriel would have expected a retort from her, but she said nothing. It was a relief, to be honest: he wasn't really looking forward to see von Zell again, and a less-prickly-than-usual Elsa wouldn't add more unpleasantness it. He went through the ritual quickly, mostly because the rotten heart was no longer frozen and he wanted to be rid of the stench as soon as possible. He put the heart in the other bowl – Ludwig's heart, he noticed, was once again embalmed as though nothing had happened to it in the past minutes – and emptied the sack with Elsa's blood in it, then he stepped back and waited.

He didn't have to wait long: in a matter of moments the heart began absorbing the blood, and soon a perfectly healthy-looking heart had taken the rotten one's place, beating like a living thing. And, sure enough, there was the silver mist – again. It swirled for only a few moments, then it became thicker and took a human form as well – that of Garr von Zell. Much like Ludwig, he looked everything like he did the night he had died – down to the fact that, very much unlike Ludwig, he was naked.

_Well, just when I thought this couldn't possibly get any more awkward._

Thankfully, though, von Zell barely spared him a glance – a very unfriendly one, but just a glance – before turning his attention on the only other person there who was actually looking at him: Elsa. As Gabriel had suspected, no one seemed to see him aside from himself and the one person he had created a connection with after his death. Gabriel watched in silence as von Zell walked up to Elsa, and saw him moving his lips, but this time he could hear, or feel, no words. Whatever von Zell was saying was meant for her ears alone, and Gabriel couldn't tell whether that should relieve or alarm him.

Elsa listened to whatever von Zell said in silence, then she nodded. And that was it: she didn't talk back to him, didn't ask questions, didn't make promises. A nod was all she apparently needed to give him before she turned to glance at von Glower. Von Zell followed her gaze and, after a moment of stillness, walked past her and to von Glower; much like Ludwig before him, he went to stand before him.

"He's in front of you," Elsa said very quietly, then, "he says there is a rifle I should give you back. To remember him by."

His gaze locked on the spot in front of him, where von Zell's spirit was, von Glower swallowed and nodded. "I see," he said, his voice strained. "Was it... the rifle he gifted me, was it not? The one he kept to have my initials carved on it, before...?"

He didn't go on, but Gabriel knew what he had been about to say – _before we fell apart, before he went insane, before everything went wrong_.

Von Zell's spirit nodded, and so did Elsa. "Yes, he says that's the one. I'll let you have it as soon as I can."

Von Glower smiled, but once again it was a smile filled with pain and longing. "I shall treasure it always," he promised, and reached out for von Zell like he had with Ludwig. "I'm sorry."

"So is he. For everything," Elsa added, turning to Werner Huber for a moment. The old man worked his jaw for a moment, surely thinking of his cousin's little girl, then he just nodded at her in silence.

Von Zell reached out for von Glower's own hand. Once again, von Glower felt the touch that wasn't, and let out a shaky breath. When he spoke again his voice was hoarse, his eyes moist. "Leb wohl, Garr."

Von Zell smiled, a smile that looked nothing like the sneers Gabriel had seen on his face when he was alive. Then he spoke, and this time Gabriel could hear, or _feel_ , his last words.

_Until next time, Friedrich._

Next time, Gabriel found himself thinking as von Zell's form disappeared the same way Ludwig's had. So von Zell knew that he would have to go through life again instead of moving on right away; could it be that he also knew when it would happen, who would he be? Would they cross paths again? And if they did how would they know, if von Zell was to lose all his memories from his previous life?

"Is it over, then?" Werner Huber's voice snapped Gabriel from his thoughts. He turned to glance at him first, then at the others – Mosely, and Gerde, and the Smiths. They all had been so quiet he had forgotten their presence entirely; even Ms. Smith had stayed silent.

"Yeah," he heard himself saying, "it's over."

There was what sounded like a collective sigh, and several of them began talking all at once. Gabriel exchanged a tired but satisfied smile with Grace, then Grace went to put everything they had used for the ritual away – they had agreed to bury von Zell's rotten heart somewhere, as it no longer had any use, and to return Ludwig's to the shrine – and Gabriel turned his attention back to von Glower. He was still standing on the same spot, motionless, his gaze lost somewhere in the darkness beyond the hillside.

Gabriel walked up to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey. How do you feel?"

Von Glower reached up to grab his hand and held it, like he couldn't do with either Ludwig's or von Zell's. Gabriel held back, tight. "I am... not sure," von Glower finally spoke. "May I be alone here for a while?"

Gabriel had expected him to ask that. "Sure. Take your time," he said, and after one last squeeze he let go of his hand and gestured for everyone else to get back into Schloss Ritter through the passage. None of them said anything over von Glower staying behind: they certainly understood his need to be alone for a while.

"You know," Elsa finally spoke up as they went through the passage, walking up to Gabriel's side, "there was something else my uncle asked me to do. He kind of had a last wish."

Something in her voice alarmed Gabriel. "What kind of last-" he began, but he was cut off by an excruciating pain as Elsa suddenly turned and suddenly punched his groin – not quite as hard as she likely might have, but still pretty damn hard. Gabriel yelped and bent over, reaching to press a hand on his crotch.

"This," Elsa said, not even trying to conceal her satisfaction, and walked ahead without another word.

"That _asshole_!" Gabriel barked, leaning against the stone wall and regretting even going through the trouble of freeing his soul; now he really hoped they would meet again once he was reborn, if anything so that he could get to punch _him_ in the balls and see how he liked it. Behind him, he heard Mosely chuckling.

"Well," he commented, patting Gabriel's shoulder, "it was about time a woman did that."

"Shut up, Mose," Gabriel gritted out, his eyes squeezed shut in agony and trying his best to ignore the fact that Grace's sudden fit of coughing sounded a damn lot like a laugh.

* * *

The clear, starry night turned into a gray dawn, but even as the first raindrops began to fall von Glower didn't move: he kept sitting on the hillside's grass, gazing in the distance. He liked rain, liked its smell, loved sitting in it. And that morning the feeling of rain soaking his clothes and hair and sliding on his skin felt even better: it felt like being cleansed. After some time he turned up his face into the gentle rain and closed his eyes. A raindrop fell on his forehead and felt almost like a kiss.

"Hey."

Gabriel's voice broke the illusion and caused von Glower to open his eyes. He turned to the secret passage to see Gabriel walking out of it. "Gabriel," he greeted him quietly.

Gabriel said nothing and just walked up to him, then sat by his side on the wet grass, gazing at the hillside below them, uncaring of the rain. "I knew I'd find you still here," he finally spoke. "You could get some breakfast, you've been here all night. And you know, just sitting like this in the rain is not such a great idea."

Von Glower chuckled. "And yet you're here as well now," he said.

Gabriel shrugged. "I said it's not a good idea, not that it doesn't feel kinda nice," he pointed out, and looked up, to the clouds above them. Von Glower could not tear his gaze away from him, from the thoughtful expression on his face as the raindrops wet his skin and dampened his hair. "So," Gabriel finally spoke, "it's over, uh? For the two of them, at least."

A nod. "Yes. Yes, it is over," von Glower said quietly. "And I owe you more than you could possibly imagine. You had no reason to help either, after all."

"Hey, Ludwig helped Gracie and me out, or tried to. It was only fair. Von Zell... er... okay, yeah, you've got a point there," he said, causing von Glower to laugh. A brief silence followed.

"So," Gabriel finally spoke up. "What are you planning on doing now?"

Von Glower smiled weakly. "I suppose I'll go back to my life. You'll always know where to find me, Gabriel – in case you... if everything else fails."

"No." Gabriel's voice was sharp. "Killing you is not an option. Had enough of that shit with Malia, okay?"

"I'm not like Malia, Gabriel. She truly had no choice. But I-"

"I said _no_ ," Gabriel cut him off, and it was clear that, as far as he was concerned, that was final. "Even if you convinced me, I wouldn't do that willingly, okay? And it wouldn't work. I must will it, truly _will_ it. That's something Mrs. Smith made damn clear. And I... I cannot."

Those last words sounded all the world like an admission of defeat, Gabriel's shoulders slumping a little. Von Glower gave a bitter smile. "I cannot quite tell whether I'm happy to know that, or bitter because of what you're sentencing yourself to if there truly is no other way to remove the curse," he said truthfully. "The curse can be a gift, but the immortality it brings... it means infinite loneliness when you bear it on your own."

"But there could be a way. For me and you both," Gabriel insisted stubbornly. It was an idea he was not willing to abandon, not completely, not _yet_.

Von Glower shook his head. "I wish you best luck in finding a way out for yourself, but I know there is none for me. And even if there was... I'd sooner die rather than chaining such a great part of me in the depths of my soul, never again to roam free. I told you so before, I believe. And while I've come to regret much and I've seen that my faults are many, this has not changed. It would be too much agony for me to bear, Gabriel. I would wish for death every waking hour."

Gabriel sighed. "Yeah, I know. I know. I didn't really hope you had changed your mind on this," he murmured, and looked back down, to the hillside. His damp hair his his eyes from sight, and it took von Glower an effort not to reach to brush it back. "But it's not fair," he said quietly. "It's not fucking _fair_."

"Do not concern yourself about me. I've grown used to loneliness."

A snort. "No, you haven't," Gabriel snapped, turning to glare at him, and something in his angry gaze caused von Glower to recoil. "You wouldn't have tried so hard to find companions if you had."

For a few moments von Glower said nothing, just staring at him. Then, slowly, he lowered his gaze. "True enough. But I'll have to grow used to it. Never again I'll dare to Change someone."

Gabriel sighed. "You know I cannot join you," he said. "I have... things to do here. Responsibilities and whatnot. Can't say I love it but hey, I wasn't given a hell of a lot of a choice. I'm the only one left."

"I know. I wouldn't have asked you to, Gabriel. I know you will not."

"Yeah, but-" Gabriel trailed off and cleared his throat, as though suddenly hesitant. Von Glower looked up at him and noticed he was keeping his gaze fixed on the grass now, looking uncharacteristically uneasy.

"Gabriel? Are you...?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," Gabriel said, and cleared his throat again, still avoiding his gaze. "So, I was thinking. You know I won't join you and stuff, but at least for now, how about, you know... the other way around?"

Von Glower blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"Okay, okay, here's the thing," Gabriel muttered, brushing back his now wet hair with a slightly frustrated gesture and turning to look at him. He was beautiful, von Glower found himself thinking, even more so with his hair and clothes wet with rain. "I'm new at this shadow hunting shit and I still need help. Like, a lot of help. I fucked up so bad that Gracie had to save my ass this time. And then I fucked up some more in the theater. So now I have this weird enhanced sense and strength and hey, it might come in handy as long as it lasts, but I have no idea how to use these when I'm human. And you could teach me. And after that, well, you've got shit to make up for, right? You said nothing you do will undo that, right, but you can still try to set something right because it would be a lot more useful than moping, and... and... where the hell was I?"

Von Glower tilted his head on one side. "I'm... not quite sure. I think you were saying something about me teaching how to fully master the curse's effects until you find a way to undo it, then began talking about me trying to set things right to make up for my past crimes."

"Oh. Right. Great," Gabriel said, smiling somewhat sheepishly, but his face seemed to redden. "So, the point is, er... oh, what the hell. Look, why don't _you_ join _me_? Help me out with this... shadow hunting business?"

For a few moments, all von Glower could do was stare. And then stare some more, causing Gabriel to squirm. "Well?" he urged. It didn't escape von Glower how he defensively folded his arms over his chest.

"You... want me to join you," he repeated slowly.

"Uh... yeah. At least for time being. To see if this works out."

" _This?_ " von Glower repeated, and Gabriel rolled his eyes.

"Wait a moment, I thought you were the smart guy here. First you tell me you wanted me as a _companion_ , and _now_ you can't tell what I mean?" he protested.

_… Oh._

"I see," von Glower spoke slowly after minutes of stunned silence. "But, Gabriel, I..." he paused, and sighed. "I have to ask you to consider this: if you cannot find a way to undo the curse upon yourself, what will keep you from hating me the way Ludwig grew to hate me?"

Gabriel frowned. "Look, that was a different. _Way_ different. And I _will_ find a way to undo it, so..." he paused. "Wait. Are you afraid of that, too? That I'd grow old and die while you'll keep living?"

Von Glower shook his head. "It is not a thought I enjoy but no, I do not fear it. Not to the extent you may think. That is something I have... grown accustomed to, I suppose. Many people I cared for died while I had to keep living, but I never regretted what I shared with them; it was better than sharing nothing at all. It would be the same with you, if you truly are certain: every day you may give me would be treasured, and never would I regret having such memories. I suppose you could say I live for the moment. But," he added, a small smile that had started to form on his lips immediately souring, "Gabriel, what I would never be able to withstand is your hatred. I-"

And that was it, that was all von Glower was able to say – because the next instant Gabriel's hands had shot out to grab the front of his jacket and drag him closer, and before von Glower could even realize it he was on his back, the wet grass soaking his clothes completely, with Gabriel's weight on him and Gabriel's mouth on his own. It was not a gentle kiss, far from it: it was rough and demanding, and then Gabriel's hands were tangling in his hair and pulling, making von Glower hiss and instinctively tilt his head backwards to expose his throat in primeval gesture of surrender. Only then Gabriel broke the kiss and brought his mouth to von Glower's throat, pressing his lips against the heartbeat.

"Never," he said huskily, his breath hot against wet skin. Von Glower drew in a trembling breath.

"Gabriel..." he tried to speak, but then Gabriel's mouth was on his again in another bruising kiss.

" _Never_ ," Gabriel breathed when he broke the kiss. "Won't hate you. Can't hate you. Get the message?"

And this time he did, he really _did_. Von Glower tried to reply, but what left him was nothing more than a low growl. He finally reached up to dig his fingers into Gabriel's hair, too, and tugged him closer into another kiss – one that Gabriel returned eagerly, shifting a little so that he could straddle von Glower's hips without breaking the kiss. Von Glower instinctively arched to push his hips forward, pressing against Gabriel, and the sound that left both of them had very little of human left in it. Gabriel pulled back with a gasp, staring down at von Glower with surprise and lust plain on his face, plus something else von Glower couldn't quite define.

His blond hair was soaked now, darkened by the rain and dripping water on von Glower's face. Von Glower brushed it back, smiling at Gabriel's hungry gaze. "Gabriel," he began, but he didn't get to add anything else.

" _A-hem."_

Both of them froze and looked on their left to see Grace standing at the entrance of the secret passage. She was leaning against the stone wall, her arms folded and an eyebrow raised. Her reaction was certainly much more dignified than Mosely's had been... then again, von Glower thought, they both had clothes on this time.

"Ah. Hey, Gracie," Gabriel said with a somewhat sheepish grin, immediately pulling back and letting von Glower sit up.

"Didn't learn anything from the trauma you caused Mose, did you?"

Gabriel's grin widened. "You know, you didn't tell me how your date went yet."

Her eyebrow went a little higher. "You used to be better than this at changing subject. More subtle."

Gabriel was still grinning. "Subject? Didn't need to change subject. We weren't _talking_."

"And to think I was so sure you were discussing philosophy," she said, amusement plain in her voice as her eyes flickered on von Glower. She didn't ask him how he felt, though, of which he was grateful. "Look, breakfast is ready and you got a letter from your grandmother. Don't you think it's time to pay her a visit, by the way? You said you would, and she _misses_ you."

Gabriel's grin faded into a somewhat guilty expression. "True. And I miss her, really. Guess it's time to go, uh? Mose's got to go back, I wouldn't mind a vacation, and I have to check on the bookshop, and..." he paused, then turned to von Glower and smiled brightly. "Say, have you ever seen New Orleans?" he asked.

He hadn't, but he had a feeling he would soon.


	18. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, thanks a lot to everyone who read/reviewed/kudo-ed this! I hope you enjoyed the read.
> 
> Secondly... wait, the rest is a bit spoilery, so I'm putting that after the chapter's end.

That, Elsa decided, had to be a nightmare. It simply had to be: in what other scenario would she be forced to sit into the same room as several more or less distant relatives she barely even knew and, most of all, her mother?

Obviously, that was only wishful thinking: it _was_ happening alright. For whatever reason, she had received a phone call from a notary telling her that her presence was required for him to open and read Garr von Zell's will. Her first instinct had been that of refusing, but curiosity had gotten the better of her in the end and she had decided to swallow her bile and go... not without convincing Wilhelm to give her a lift and wait for her outside, if anything because she felt she would need someone to listen to her ramblings after she was through with whatever that was about.

When she had entered the notary's office her mother had stared at her as though wondering what the hell was she doing there, and for once Elsa could only agree with her. She sure didn't want to be there: she barely knew any of the relatives who had showed up – she ought to, maybe, but she had never bothered to get to know them to begin with – and having to sit in the same room as her mother made her want to scream, strangle her and run outside. Possibly in the order, though she didn't entirely rule out the idea of screaming and strangling her at the same time.

Still, she had managed to hold back. She just sat stiffly, wondering what strings her mother had pulled to have her brother declared dead already without even a body, listening to the notary's monotonous bleating.

Garr von Zell's will was several years old, which meant two things: that he was the kind of guy to make sure everything is in order even when death should be decades away, and that he must have written it before being bitten and cursed. Well, at least that meant he was honest when declaring he was in full possession of his mental faculties: back then, he had been.

Or so Elsa had thought until the notary reached the end of the will. Until that moment nothing mentioned in the will was of much importance: his rifles went to this relative – Elsa was glad she had taken the one meant for von Glower already – while his apartment in Berlin went to that other one. His home in Munich went to his 'beloved sister' – Elsa had seen her mother's jaw clenching when that had been read, and no wonder since it was certainly meant to be sarcasm – while all of its furniture was to be divided up between more relatives whose name Elsa could barely remember... and her, for he had left her some silver furnishings. Well, she had thought, that explained why she was called there. Nice of him, considering they didn't know each other well.

But what her mother had been waiting for, like everyone else, was knowing about his bank stocks. Not that there was much wondering about that: he had certainly left them to his sister, for she was his closest relative with a still working brain. No matter how much she hated him and how he clearly hadn't much cared for her, he had to know he was meant to leave them to his closest relative since the family had always been in bank-

"... My niece, Elsa Schröder."

_Wait, what?_

"Huh?" Elsa looked up upon hearing her name, staring stupidly at the notary... while everyone else was staring at _her_. She could clearly hear her mother's sharp intake of breath.

The old notary seemed the only man not to be affected in the slightest by whatever thoughts had to be crossing everyone else's mind. He looked back at her from above black-rimmed glasses. "The deceased left all of his bank stocks to you," he said, now a little more slowly.

Elsa stared. "Ah," was all she finally managed, immediately dismissing the thought she had had about Garr von Zell being still sane when the will had been written. He clearly had never been to begin with.

"There must be a mistake!" Brunhilde's voice rose over the low murmuring that followed the notary's words, causing everyone to fall silent and turn to look at her... including Elsa, who still wasn't exactly sure what the hell had just happened. She looked absolutely livid, fury looming behind her eyes like rainclouds, but to his credit the notary didn't seem impressed at all; it would later occur to Elsa that he likely had already seen such scenes, that von Zell hadn't been the only dead guy to fuck up with very much disliked relatives.

Because _that_ was why he had left his stocks to her of all people, no doubt: he had simply wished to spite his sister should she outlive him. Before even dying and using Elsa as a tool for salvation, Garr von Zell had used her as a tool for... for what? Revenge? Over what? He had never showed any sign of being bothered by his own sister's open loathing. Or maybe he was? Had it affected him more than he had ever showed?

Maybe, Elsa thought. Maybe not. Whatever the case, it was too late to ask.

"There is no mistake," the notary was replying, his voice calm and somewhat bored. "Your deceased brother was extremely clear on that aspect. Here it is, black on white. Unless you wish to claim I cannot read..."

"A fake, then!" Brunhilde accused, giving her daughter a poisonous glare. "It must have been faked, or-"

"This document," the notary cut her off, this time more forcefully, "was written by your own brother in my presence. His signature is on it, plus those of two witnesses and my own. Unless you wish to claim I took part to a forgery – not a claim I'd take lightly, I'll have you know – I advise you mind your words, or leave this office."

For a few moments, Brunhilde Schröder nee von Zell said nothing. She just stared at the notary, apparently unaware of everyone's eyes on her, her mouth opening and closing like that of a fish out of water. Then her gaze turned to Elsa, and her eyes darkened once more before she turned and stormed out of the office, slamming the door shut behind herself.

Later on, Elsa wouldn't be able to tell why she had gone after her. Perhaps it was because she knew how important having those stocks had been to her mother, for they would have been her chance to prove herself and everyone that she could be just as good as Garr or even better if given the same chances and responsibilities. Perhaps it was because there was some small corner of her that was not yet beyond wishing her mother would just be her mother, and not a bitter, cold woman who thought of her as a failed attempt. While growing up, what would she have given for one moment where her mother was just a mother, and she just her daughter? For one good memory of her? Just _one_?

Going after her was a bad idea, of course. It couldn't end well, and deep down Elsa had known that before she even reached her on the stairs, before she called out for her – but she still did. She still tried.

"Listen, I-" she began, but she could go no further. Her mother's head turned to her, and the loathing on her face was enough to make Elsa trail off and still, her mother's eyes like spears of ice keeping her nailed where she stood.

"You must be satisfied," Brunhilde gritted out, her voice as filled with venom as her expression. "You managed to ruin everything all over again. A bane to my existence, _another_ one, since the day you were born."

Elsa couldn't tell whether her mother's hatred was for her alone, or for her dead brother, or even for herself as well – but hatred it was, and it was enough to make any wish to talk things through vanish in a heartbeat, make herself close off any vulnerable part of her once again.

Elsa's lips curled into a mocking smirk. "Why so upset? It's almost as though you lost something," she said. "Except that you didn't, because you never _had_ it to begin with. Nothing changed. You've always been stuck in the second place. I thought you were used to it. If you're not, you really should be." She gave her a cold smile. "Because no matter what you do, this isn't about to change. You lose. _Again_."

Brunhilde's hand flew at her daughter's face, but Elsa was faster. Her arm shot up to block it, and Brunhilde let out a hiss of pain when her wrist hit her daughter's forearm. Elsa, on the other hand, didn't even flinch. She bared her teeth into what was more of a silent snarl than a smile. "If you know what's good for you," she said slowly, "leave _now_."

For just a moment, her mother looked almost scared. But it was only that one moment: the next she was scowling once again. "Damn you," she finally hissed, pulling back her arm to rub her wrist. Her whole body shook with fury. "Damn you to hell."

" _Leave."_

And leave she did: one last hateful glare and she was turning away from her, walking quickly down the stairs. Else didn't move and just listened as the sound of her steps grew more and more distant, until she heard the sound of a heavy door opening and closing, leaving her alone again.

And then, only then, she made herself breathe again.

* * *

Waiting just outside of his car for Elsa to come out of the building, Wilhelm – whose full name was Luitpold Wilhelm Albrecht Rupprecht Hans von Ehrlichmann, something he tried rather hard to keep under wraps – couldn't shake off a bad feeling about the whole thing. Hardly a surprise, though: even he could tell that only bad things could come out of putting Elsa and her mother in the same room for even a few minutes. And they had been inside for _more_ than just a few minutes.

Wilhelm was just starting to wonder if something tragic – like, say, mass murder – had already happened in there when the building's main door swung open and a woman walked out. He had seen her several times, so he recognized her immediately as Elsa's mother... and God, didn't she look absolutely _livid_. Wilhelm was very, very grateful of the fact she didn't look in his direction at all: she walked away with quick steps, her back straight, her whole posture stiff. What on Earth had happened in there?

… And why wasn't Elsa coming out yet?

Another couple of minutes passed, and then the idea mass-murder had occurred didn't seem _so_ unlikely. He was just about to gather his – admittedly rather scarce – courage and go take a look, but then the door opened slowly and Elsa stepped out, still in one piece and apparently calm. She looked in his direction and smiled.

"Hey, Luitpold," she called out, walking up to him. He usually hated being called that, but for once Wilhelm did not protest: he knew well enough to tell, from the odd tone, that she was nowhere as calm as she was trying to look. "I'm done here. We can get going. I'm driving," she added, walking around the car to get on the driver's seat.

Normally Wilhelm would have protested, saying that it was his car and he should drive; this time, however, he felt that keeping his mouth shut would the best option. So he just nodded and went to sit on the passenger's seat. If something was indeed wrong, then he'd know once in the car.

He wasn't wrong on that.

"You saw my mother getting out, right?" Elsa asked. She started the engine, but didn't move from the parking spot. She spoke with her gaze fixed ahead of her, not turning to him once.

"Yes."

"What did she look like?"

"Livid, I'd say."

She smirked. "Good."

"What happened?"

"Stuff."

"Define 'stuff'."

"Garr von Zell didn't leave his stocks to her. He left them to me. And she... didn't take it well."

That was just about the last thing Wilhelm would have expected to hear. "The stocks? All of them? But that's... wow. That's a _lot_ , Elsa!"

Elsa laughed and put both hands on the wheel, leaning on it. "Karma is a funny thing, isn't it?" she mused, still looking straight ahead of her over the wheel, avoiding Wilhelm's gaze. "I was supposed to be her last chance, and I ended up being the final nail in her coffin. The bane of her existence, as she put it. Yes. Ironic. And I fucking _hate_ irony, you know. I... I just _hate_... I-"

Whatever else she had been trying to say was never to leave her: she just lowered her head, and her shoulders shook. It took Wilhelm a few moments to realize she was crying, and he found himself at a loss for words, without knowing what to do. He had only seen her cry once before, and even that time he had been completely useless; he could only stand there while she wept in silence, the file he had found for her – that of a bank worker who had been promoted by her mother and sent elsewhere some time before her birth – in her hands.

"You will tell no one about this," was all she had finally said when she could stop crying, handing the file back at him, picture and all. She had never tried to look for the man or contact him, at least as far as he knew. Wilhelm could remember the man in the picture perfectly despite his rather unremarkable features, if anything because he was Elsa's spitting image – with the same blond hair and gray eyes slightly too far apart, the same weak jaw, the same narrow nose and thin lips. "Not a word," Elsa had repeated, her voice calmer, and all Wilhelm could do was nodding. Even then, he couldn't bring himself to say anything.

But this time he didn't want to keep silent. This time he had to speak, to say something, or at least try.

"Elsa, I-"

It was a valiant attempt, but a short lived one: the next moment Elsa's hands had grabbed his shoulders and was crying into the front of his shirt, her whole frame shuddering. Wilhelm tried to make himself speak again, but slowly closed his mouth when he realized he didn't need to, after all: all he could and had to do now was just being _there_. He tentatively reached to hold her back, and didn't let go until her shoulders finally stopped shaking and she moved to pull back. She wiped her eyes and drew in a deep breath, looking more like her usual self. Well, except from the fact she was rather red-faced and with puffy eyes.

"You're dead meat if you tell anyone," she informed him. If anything, he thought, her voice was firm.

Wilhelm cleared his throat and nodded, not really needing to ask what was it he shouldn't tell anyone. "I, uh... maybe I should drive," he said a little tentatively, only to be surprised as she nodded.

"Yes," was all he said before getting off the car to switch places. When she sat on the passenger's seat she avoided to look at him and just gazed out of the window. "Dead meat," she repeated, but she sounded tired. For a few minutes she stayed silent, not even commenting on his driving. When she spoke again, her voice was very quiet. "You never told me why you exactly stick with me," she said, not turning to look at him. Her head was resting back, her gaze still fixed out of the window.

That wasn't something Wilhelm had expected to hear, and for a few moments he wasn't sure what to even say. In the end, he gave a small smile. "Well, I heard that madness can be genetic," he just said.

Elsa didn't turn to look at him, but in the window's reflection he could see the hint of a smile curling her lips, and the faint sounds he heard for a moment sounded suspiciously close to a chuckle.

* * *

"Home, sweet home!"

Mosely's exclamation came the very same moment they set foot on American soil, predictable as it was loud: as Grace had learned in the past several hours, Franklin Mosely hated flying about as much as he hated dieting.

Gabriel reached out to pat his shoulder. "Aww, Mose. I'm sure the beignet vendor missed you, too," he said with a sneer. Mosely's sigh of relief immediately turned into a groan.

"Fuck you, Knight," was the incredibly creative reply. "In case you didn't know, I took a break from those."

"Oh, sure. So that's how you gained another handful of pounds since last year! I wondered about that."

Mosely snorted and turned to face him, almost tripping in his own suitcase in the process. "Don't you have worse shit to worry about, Knight? _Seriously_? At least _I_ didn't sprout fur and fangs and a goddamn _tail_! _I_ don't chase rabbits and howl at the moon!"

Gabriel gaped at him for a few moments before his mouth shut with a click. One for Mosely, Grace thought. Who would have known. She held back a chuckle and turned to glance at von Glower – who, in turn, was looking back at her, apparently just as amused as she was.

"Does this happen as often as it seems?" he asked quietly. They were a few steps behind the other two, and while Mosely didn't seem to hear him Gabriel's head turned in their direction just a little; Grace supposed it had to be because of the superhuman hearing thing included in the Werewolf Deluxe Package.

"You mean these little kindergarten scenes, or Gabriel shutting his mouth?" she asked.

Von Glower chuckled. "The former," he said. "I already know that the latter is no easy feat to achieve."

"Depends on how you plan on shutting me up," Gabriel drawled, causing Mosely to choke on the mouthful of water he had just taken from a small plastic bottle.

"Knight, you asshole!" he managed, red-faced and coughing. "You fucking did that on purpose, didn't you?"

Gabriel gave him his most innocent smile, which happened to look nowhere near innocent. "Did what on purpose? I don't know what you're talking about, Mose."

Mosely snorted. "Asshole," was his brilliant retort; the moment of glory had passed.

"I suppose," von Glower spoke up as they left the airport, amusement still plain in his voice, "that Gabriel is referring to his German lessons. You wouldn't believe how long he's capable of staying silent when he's supposed to be speaking German."

The comment caused Gabriel's grin to fade into something that made Grace think far too much of a pout. "Damn language is difficult," he grumbled.

"Nevertheless, it's the language of your ancestors. You should learn it."

"All their journals are in English, though," Gabriel tried.

"But not the entire contents of your library, I'd wager, and you cannot know what books you may need someday. Not to mention that if you're to live there from now on you'll need to be able to understand and speak German, regardless the language your ancestors used for their journals. Miss Nakimura-"

"Grace," she corrected him, almost without thinking. Von Glower smiled and have gave her a small nod; he had been getting used to first name basis with her, but from time to time he seemed to slip and go back to more formal ways.

"Of course. As I was saying, Grace already has a more than decent grasp on the language – and, very much unlike you, she did _not_ spend over a year in Germany."

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "He's smart but doesn't apply himself, Mrs. Knight," he said in an excessively squeaky voice, clearly parroting some teacher he had had back in his school days. "Please, don't say that at Gran's place. She heard it more than enough back in the day."

"I wonder whose fault that was," Grace commented, and Gabriel just grinned.

* * *

It took some time for Ester Knight to finally let go of her grandson once she got a hold of him, right on her porch. Truth be told, Gabriel didn't do much to escape her embrace; he didn't do anything, really. He wouldn't admit it aloud later, but seeing his grandmother again had made him realize just how much he had missed her... and how much he had risked through that case. Had he died back in Germany, with his throat torn open by von Zell's fangs or shot in the theater's basement, who would have given her the news? How would she have managed to survive yet another loss, that of the only relative she had left?

She wouldn't have, Gabriel knew then with absolute certainty: she would have died as well. But he hadn't died – he was _there_. He was home, at least for a while. And it felt good, really. He had missed New Orleans.

"It's good to be home, Gran," Gabriel said somewhat huskily, holding her back. It took him some effort to pull back and grin at her. "Well, you're still looking good. How many hearts did you break this week?"

His grandmother laughed, though there was still the slightest tremor in the laugh, a leftover of the emotion for the reunion. "Oh, you should stop flattering me, Gabriel. Such a waste of skill. Your should turn you attention on a nice young lady and settle down. Oh, Grace! It is good to see you, too," she added, finally looking past Gabriel; Gabriel had to wonder if she realized she was not being subtle at all with her suggestion. He cleared his throat with some embarrassment and shared a look with von Glower, who seemed mildly amused and somewhat melancholic. It occurred to Gabriel that he had no living relatives, nor he had had any family for centuries.

He had no time to feel sorry for him, though: the next moment his grandmother's gaze found von Glower as well. "So, is this young man the friend you told me about?" she asked, and before Gabriel could reply von Glower tilted his head in a courtly blow.

"I don't feel quite as young as I may look, but I believe its is me Gabriel spoke of, yes. I'm Baron Friedrich von Glower, and I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. Gabriel spoke much of you as well."

Ester Knight chuckled, and Gabriel was surprised to realize she looked somewhat giddy. Friedrich tended to have that effect on a lot of people... including old ladies, apparently. And _he_ had thought he was smooth.

"Oh, no need to be so formal. I hope my grandson didn't bore you too much with his tales of this old lady."

Von Glower smiled. "Bored me? Not at all. I had grown curious to meet you, I must confess. You did such a fine job raising Gabriel. It's a shame he could never meet his relatives in Germany: they would have been truly proud of him," he added, this time briefly glancing at Gabriel. Who, on the other hand, was wondering if the fact he was currently charming his grandmother should worry him. It sure was a weird scene, even knowing that von Glower was actually a damn lot older than her.

His grandmother seemed surprised. "You knew my husband's family?" she asked.

"Not directly, unfortunately, but I heard much of them: it was a very important family in Bavaria. Gabriel learned about them in Germany, though; I'm certain he knows more than I do," he added, causing Gabriel to inwardly sigh. Of course he was going to tell her about the family, but there were a lot of... _details_ she wasn't meant to know.

Still, when she turned to glance at him, Gabriel put on a smile. "Sure I'll tell. How about we go in? It's a long story to tell on a porch."

His grandmother nodded. "Oh, of course! Hope you don't mind having to wait for lunch. When did Franklin say he'd be here?"

It took Gabriel a few moments to realize she was talking about Mosely: it wasn't often he heard anyone calling him by his first name. Hell, he didn't do it himself. "Oh! Right. He said he'd get his luggage home first, and I think he also wanted to get something for drink everyone. Will be here in half a hour or so now."

"What a dear! But he should know by now that he doesn't have to bring anything," his grandmother sighed and stepped inside her house, gesturing for them to follow. Grace followed her with her luggage – she had stopped renting an apartment when it had become clear she was to stay in Germany for some time, and Ester Knight had offered to host her for the time she would be back – while Gabriel and von Glower lingered outside for a few more moments.

"Feeling older than you look, huh?" Gabriel muttered, raising an eyebrow. "Now that wasn't subtle at all."

Von Glower chuckled. "Neither was she when she mentioned you should turn your flattery to a young lady. I'm afraid I have to inform you that I'm neither young nor a lady."

Gabriel pretended to be shocked. "What, you're not? And here I thought-"

"Gabriel!" Ester's voice came from inside the house. "Be a _real_ knight and carry Grace's luggage upstairs!"

With a sigh, Gabriel turned to the door. "Well, there's no denying Gran. The pains of being a gentleman," he stated, then grinned at von Glower and gestured for the door. "Ladies first," he drawled, and allowed himself a moment to think how much he liked the sound of von Glower's laugh before following him inside.

It was good to be home.

* * *

"So, uh... how do you like it?"

There was some nervousness in Gabriel's voice, and von Glower could tell why: one look at the bookshop had been enough for him to realize the place was so much more than a shop Gabriel owned. Its very name – St. George's Books – spoke volumes of how much of himself Gabriel had poured in it without even realizing it. The bookshop, with all of the old books in it, wasn't simply Gabriel's: it was _Gabriel_ , a part of him, a window to his very soul. Von Glower wondered if Gabriel was aware of it on a conscious level. Perhaps not.

"It's magnificent," he said, letting his gaze linger on a painting on the wall. It was a morbid composition, a skull with three snakes wound around and through its empty sockets, but hauntingly beautiful in its own way. Von Glower wasn't surprised when he read the artist's signature – Philip Knight, Gabriel's father.

"Oh. Well, great. Glad you like it," Gabriel spoke up, sounding now more at ease and a lot more like himself. "I was supposed to get on with some renovations when I got some money rolling in from my last book and, well, some cash I managed to take from the voodoo cult. But I didn't. I like to think it's got personality."

"It certainly does," von Glower agreed. He had barely set foot in that place, and yet the thought of seeing it changed felt almost as wrong as the thought of Gabriel being no longer... Gabriel. "These books look rare," he added, reaching to brush his fingers over a few of the books on the nearest shelves.

Gabriel shrugged. "Ah, well... yeah. They're old, mostly. Some are rare, too," he said. Despite the apparent dismissal, von Glower had no trouble picking up the pride in his voice. "Oh, now that I think about it... just a minute..." Gabriel went to the shelf near the door and, after a little searching, pulled out an old book bound in soft leather. He opened it on the first page and handed it to von Glower. He took it, and saw that inside there were hand-written poems in German. The author, he wasn't too surprised to realize, was Heinz Ritter. Gabriel's grandfather. "I tried to translate some once," Gabriel was saying, "but I could only make out a few words. Didn't get much better yet, so, uh... could you translate some?"

Von Glower smiled. "You do realize, of course, that if you had applied yourself you'd have already learned German well enough to read them all on your own?"

A sigh. "What a slave driver you are," Gabriel muttered. "Alright, fine. Just the one on that page. The one with... dragons, right? I'm sure there were dragons."

One look at the page was enough to tell von Glower that yes, that was the poem Gabriel was referring to. "Drei Drachen kriechenin in meinen Schlaf," he read aloud, "die Seele woll'n sie lebendig zum Frass. Feurigen Atems, gespaltener Zunge, geniessen sie jedes Mahl. It means-"

"Wow."

Von Glower glanced up. "What is it?"

Gabriel grinned somewhat fiendishly. "You sound good when you do that. Speak German, I mean. You should do it more often."

A chuckle. "Then you should make more of an effort to understand the language."

"Nah. I just like the sound," Gabriel said, then, "so, what does it say?"

Von Glower looked back at the page and began translating. "Three dragons crawl into my sleep, they want to eat the soul alive. With fiery breath, forked tongue, they enjoy every meal."

There were a few moments of silence after his words faded. Finally, it was Gabriel to speak first. "We shared a lot, didn't we?" he asked, sounding somewhat melancholic. "Similar dreams. Similar thoughts. Different outlets. Grandfather with his poetry, dad with his paintings, and me with... with my books, I guess. Not sure how much that helped them. Writing helps me, but..." he paused and sighed. "Only as long as I'm writing. Then I stop and even that is gone. And neither of them can help me out anymore."

Slowly, von Glower put the book back on the shelf. "Your grandfather ran away from his family and his duty. Your father lived and died with no chance of even knowing of that duty. But you chose to return. You chose to carry it on. Your legacy is no less of a blessing and a curse than mine, and I can tell you that the burden grows easier to bear once it's been accepted. You will know neither the guilt that plagued your grandfather, nor the confusion that must have filled your father's mind when he felt a pull and couldn't tell to what."

Gabriel seemed still thoughtful, but he didn't argue on that. Instead, he reached to grab von Glower's hand and laced their fingers together. "Guess you're right. Hope you're right. Good to know you're going to help me out with this, at least for some time."

_Some time._

Von Glower ignored the slight stab of pain in his chest upon hearing those two harmless words: a reminder that the time he could spend with Gabriel was limited, that he would someday find a way to undo the curse he did not know – he had proved him wrong once; he could probably do that again – and thus restore his own mortality. Then Gabriel would grow old and die, and von Glower would have to outlive him and keep going.

Alone.

But he couldn't allow himself to think of that now, he wouldn't. There was still time, and he intended to make the best out of it. So in the end he smiled. "For as long as you need me," he said, "I'll be here."

For a few moments Gabriel only looked at him, then he looked down at their still joined hands and smirked. "You know," he said, letting go of von Glower's hand and stepping past him, to a doorway in the back closed by a curtain, "there is a part of the place I have yet to show you."

"What is it?"

Gabriel stopped at the doorway and lifted part of the curtain before turning to him with a smirk. "My bedroom. Did you think we'd sleep on the shelves?" he asked, not without putting some emphasis on the word _sleep_. Then he just turned and went through the door, letting the curtain close again behind him.

Von Glower stared at the curtain for a few moments before the fact Gabriel had just made him a _very_ clear invitation sank in his mind. Then he smiled – a somewhat predatory smile, yes, but that could hardly be helped – and walked though the curtain to join him.

* * *

**Munich, five years later.**

Grace sat on the bench with a sigh, grateful of having found one in the shade. There was someone else sitting on the other end, a woman with blonde hair, but her attention seemed to be focused on the appointment book in her hands and she hadn't even noticed her sitting down. That suited her just fine: after all morning and most of the afternoon spent the the university, she didn't mind some silence.

Not that the silence was absolute, of course: she was in a park, and the children playing on the lawn in front of her weren't really bothering to keep quiet. She didn't mind that, either – childish laughter wasn't a bad background noise at all, she mused, pulling a book out of her purse and glancing at her watch. Georg wouldn't be out of the Opera for maybe another hour – the rehearsals were taking him a lot of time lately – so she would likely be able to finish the book by the time he got there. With a satisfied sigh, Grace opened the book to read.

She didn't get past the first paragraph.

"So, did your friend solve his hair problem in the end?"

Startled, Grace looked up. The woman sitting on the other end of the bench had put away the appointment book and was looking straight at her now, the hair that had covered her face from sight tucked behind her ear. She seemed amused by her surprise, and somewhat smug.

"Elsa?" Grace found herself calling out, taken aback. She hadn't seen nor heard of her in the past five years, since the night of the ritual, nor she had expected to meet her again. But there she was now, looking everything like she had last time except from longer hair and somewhat more formal attire.

Elsa grinned. "In the flesh," she said with a shrug, leaning back against the bench. "You didn't answer my question."

"Oh. Right," Grace said, realizing that a normal conversation starting off with 'how are you?' was not the kind Elsa was likely to start. She hadn't changed on that. Still, Grace couldn't help but notice that she looked considerably more relaxed than she had been when they had first met. Granted, they were both terribly under pressure when it had happened and there was still something in her pose and gestures that made it clear she was ready to snap if given a reason… but it really looked like most of her anger was gone. Maybe she had dealt with it in those years, or maybe it was simply better concealed than before. It was hard to tell.

"Well... more or less. They found a reasonable compromise. Not that it was done on purpose, but it works. He and von Glower," she added when Elsa have her a quizzical look. "They're still together."

"Huh. As in, _together_?"

"Yes. Friedrich is of great help with our work," Grace added. There had been cases she wasn't sure they could have solved without his assistance: in time he had proved himself to be a valuable ally, and a good friend.

Elsa nodded, but didn't seem really interested in that part. "And what kind of _compromise_ is it you're talking about?" she asked instead.

Grace shot a look around to make sure no one was close enough to listen before speaking. "They're still both werewolves. That hasn't changed. What they lost is immortality: the self-healing factor that made them virtually immortal is gone. Now they age like normal people."

Elsa blinked. "And how did that happened?"

A chuckle. "It was about a year after the ritual. It involved an underground temple in France, vampires, a blood cult and a demon. Are you interested in knowing more?"

" _No."_

"I had no doubt."

Elsa tilted her head on one side. "But this means they'll die someday. What will happen then? Won't their souls be trapped?"

Grace shook her head. "No, they won't. Not if Gabriel keeps going down the Schattenjäger's path, not if Friedrich keeps aiding him. They can gain themselves the afterlife that way."

She didn't seem convinced. "Says who?"

"The Wandering Jew."

The look Elsa gave her spoke volumes of her suspects on her mental state. Still, what she had witnessed years before was clearly enough to keep her from expressing them aloud. "The Wandering Jew," she repeated flatly. "The man cursed to walk the earth until the Second Coming for taunting Jesus on the way to the crucifixion?"

"Well, it didn't really go that way. You see, he actually drank his blood and-"

"Wait, _wait_ ," Elsa cut her off, holding up her hands in a gesture of surrender. "You know what? I don't care. I don't want to know anything. All I wanted to know was whether or not they could solve their... problem. And..." she paused, then sighed. "Listen, I want a straight answer now, okay?"

Grace blinked, a little surprised by the serious edge in her voice and the turn the conversation was taking. "Sure. What is it?"

"It's about the ritual. About the souls of those who tasted human blood and had to be born again. I want to know if you're absolutely sure it works the way you told me, that once born again the curse would no longer be there. Are you?" Elsa asked, staring straight at her.

"I... yes, that's how it works. The taint is removed with the ritual; the person's blood upon rebirth would be untainted," she said. "Why are you asking? Why are you asking _now_?"

Elsa sighed, relief pain on her face. "Good," she said. "I knew it, you already told me, but since you're here... I wanted to be completely sure nothing will happen."

"But... why?"

For a moment Elsa just looked at her, saying nothing. Then she seemed to have come to a decision, and turned away from her to call out a name Grace she hadn't heard in years.

"Garr!"

A blond child who couldn't be older than three stopped playing around a small puddle of mud and turned to them. His little face was scrunched up and his eyes half-closed, most likely because he was bothered by the sunlight; he lifted an arm to shield his face from it, and Grace could see he had blue eyes. Elsa gestured for him to come closer, and he did, coming to sit on the bench between her and Grace.

He looked at Grace for a moment, then he seemed to decide she wasn't worth much attention and turned back to Elsa – who, on the other hand, was looking straight at her.

Grace needed a few moments to be able to tear her gaze from the child. She looked back at Elsa and spoke slowly. "Who...?"

"My son," Elsa replied – in English, so that the boy would not understand. "Garren von Ehrlichmann. His first name was mostly meant to spite my mother, really, which it did. It took me a while to realize how fitting it was."

Grace nodded, fully knowing now where Elsa was driving at. "So you think it's... him, right?"

"Yes. I couldn't tell at first, because people can blabber about resemblance all they want – a newborn looks absolutely nothing like an adult. Then he began growing. I took a look at some family albums, old ones with old pictures. I'm not talking about a simple resemblance here," Elsa said, looking down at the child – whose blue gaze was shifting from her to Grace like he was trying to somehow grasp what they were saying. He was a beautiful child, Grace thought, with clear blue eyes and hair like spun gold; and yet, if what Elsa said was true, in another life he had turned into a beast and fed on human flesh.

"They're identical," Elsa was going on. "I could find no difference. I took a picture of my son in a similar pose to an old one, a black-and-white one, and compared it with those in the album. No difference. It was the same child in both. Here, look," she added, and reached to pull down the collar of the child's shirt. That got some whining and squirming out of him, but a moment was enough for Grace to take a glimpse of what Elsa meant to show her: a small red birthmark behind his right shoulder. "Do you want to try guessing who had an identical one?" she asked, finally letting go of the boy's shirt and ruffling his hair.

No, Grace didn't have to guess, not really. "I suppose it makes sense that he's use you to eventually return," she said slowly. "He did create a connection with you, after all."

Elsa rolled her eyes. "He sure didn't ask for my opinion before _using_ me, as you put it," she muttered. "He could use some ass-kicking, but then again there isn't much of a point in kicking a child who can't even tell why. If what you said is true, he doesn't remember anything. Besides-"

"Mutti!" Garren called out, his voice shrill as that of any child. He reached up to pull Elsa's sleeve, clearly wanting more attention. It had to be boring him, Grace thought, sitting there between two adults speaking in a language he didn't even understand. "Ich habe Hunger!"

_Mom, I'm hungry!_

Grace felt a chill run up her spine. Those words may be perfectly normal coming from a child, but she couldn't forget Gabriel's tale of when he had found von Zell in the cave, in a pit filled with rotting corpses, feasting on human flesh.

Elsa, on the other hand, seemed unfazed: she just reached into her purse to pull out a sandwich. She unwrapped it, and the next moment the child was biting on it sandwich with clear satisfaction. Grace couldn't quite look away and the child – Garr – seemed to sense it, for he looked back at her. He didn't speak, his mouth being stuffed, but the glance alone was enough for Grace to guess what he had to be thinking of that total stranger intently staring at him.

_What the hell do you want?_

"As I was saying," Elsa spoke up again, closing her purse once more, "not much point in kicking him now. Who he was doesn't change the facts."

Grace blinked at her. "Facts?" she asked.

Elsa met her gaze, and there was something almost vicious in her eyes now, as though challenging her to disagree. "He's my son. He's got half my genes, I carried him for nine damn months, birthed him while almost bleeding out to death in the process, raised him this far and will keep raising him until he can be on his own. He's _mine_. And there's no spiritual mumbo-jumbo that can change that."

After a moment of silence, Grace nodded. "Of course. I understand," she said, and she did, she really did. Elsa seemed satisfied with her reply and was about to say something else, but before she could the child suddenly jumped off the bench and ran forward, the half-eaten sandwich still in his hand. Elsa followed him with her gaze.

"Looks like my husband made it out of his office. Late, as usual. And to think that _my_ meetings end at whatever time I want, at my conditions," she commented.

Grace turned to see that Garren was running up a man clad in an especially ill-fitting business suit, who smiled down at the child and picked him up before waving at Elsa. For a few moments she didn't recognize him, then she noticed the glasses and somewhat goofy smile. She blinked.

"Is that...?"

"Wilhelm, yes. Incredible what a drink too many can result with."

"Is he Garr's father?"

"Sure he is. There was no immaculate conception," Elsa said with a brief laugh, standing up and taking her purse. "Well, I'm glad we met. And I'm glad the answers I got are those I wanted."

Grace smiled. "I'm glad I could help. Take care."

The other woman gave an odd smile. "I always do," she said, and left without another word.

Grace watched her leaving with Wilhelm and the child without saying a word, the book forgotten on her lap. Good thing she was to go to Schloss Ritter that weekend, she thought: she was certain von Glower would want to know of that meeting, would want to know that Garr von Zell was already having his second chance at life. He was certainly going to be happy when she told him about the meeting.

Still...

_The ultimate fate of their soul would depend on how they overcome the trials they'll find in their new life._

The memory of what Amsel had told her years before regarding the fate of the cursed ones given a second chance at life made her frown. She wondered, and not for the first time, if that was a generic phrase or if it meant there would be _specific_ trials to overcome; if by fate or something else there was a possibility von Zell – Garren – would ever cross paths with Gabriel or von Glower again. What would happen, then? What _could_ happen?

"Grace!"

Georg's voice finally snapped her from her thoughts. She looked up to see him walking up at her, looking tired but happy, clearly eager to tell her about the rehearsal. Grace smiled back, and pushed her thoughts in the back of her mind for now. She would tell about the meeting to Gabriel and von Glower, of course, and would share her thoughts on the matter with both of them – but right now she was more than happy to shift her attention back to the present at hand, and to Georg.

One thing von Glower had taught her, after all, was that living for the moment wasn't _always_ such a bad thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The events Grace is talking about in the final scene - and their effect on Gabriel and von Glower - are meant to be fully explained in another fic I planned on writing; a follow-up to this one based on the third game, as you probably guessed. As I still am not sure if/when I will get writing it, I figured it would be best to mention that happening at the end of this fic, so that I wouldn't leave it on a cliffhanger I couldn't promise I would solve in a sequel.


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